A HinJew Life

Cookbook Recommendation

2009-01-25T19:05:00.000-08:00

Last Chanukah, Juliana got the Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals for Kids cookbook. We've used it quite a few times with success. (Juliana is particularly fond of the shrimp and angel hair recipe.) She went through it again the other day and picked two new things to try: mini quiches and orange-pineapple smoothies.

Seeing as I was on the couch with my tissue box all day, my mom offered to pick up what I needed at the store. The quiches called for mini phyllo cups but the store only had the long sheets of phyllo dough. I did some research on how to turn those into cups and decided to brave it. I've never worked with phyllo dough before, but that's why I like cooking with Juliana; it wouldn't occur to her not to try something because she'd never done it before. Together, we managed to get four layers of phyllo laid out and brushed with melted butter. I cut them into twelve rectangles and we formed them into little cups in the muffin tin. She filled them with bacon and shredded cheese and spoonfuls of beaten egg. While they were baking up golden, we worked on the smoothies.

Here's what you need to know. David eats apples. That is the extent of the fruits and vegetables in his diet. (Although this winter he did start eating clementines (the citrus fruit, not the toddler) on a semi-regular basis) He will claim that eating potatoes counts. Also, pumpkin pie. Now, I've tried making him smoothies before, but he couldn't deal with the texture. Here's what went into these ones: frozen orange juice concentrate, frozen strawberries, light coconut milk, pineapple chunks, light vanilla yogurt. We whirred it all up and he drank the whole thing! Did I mention strawberries? Pineapple? The words "I never thought I'd live to see the day" actually escaped my lips. (I fully expect him to be 4 inches taller in the morning.)

God knows Rachael Ray drives me nuts. She's a needy talker and I can't get past her lack of neck, but David has tried and liked nearly everything Juliana has made out of this cookbook-- including the four mini-quiches he had for dinner.

Something Kind Of Cool

2008-12-17T14:07:00.000-08:00

A few years back, I posted about another little girl named Juliana whose journey was documented on TLC. I was moved enough by her story and experience to write to her family and send a donation. Two days ago, I received a holiday card from Juliana's night nurse, Jeanne. I figured that donating money had put me on their mailing list. Along with the card, I found the following letter:

Dear Janet,

Since the note your wrote to the Wetmore's you may have seen Juliana's documentaries, Born Without A Face and Building a Face. The film crew was here last week filming another update. They were fascinated by the amount and quality of mail Juliana has received, and filmed me reading from several of the letters. As a courtesy, I am letting you know that I read a portion of the letter you wrote, because you expressed so eloquently what many people feel. I did not reveal your name or address and gave no information that would identify you, I just read the part of your letter, the part that says, "I feel like knowing about Juliana and your family has somehow made me more connected to the entire human race. I feels such compassion for her and it makes me a more caring person in general". I don't know the name of the documentary yet, or when it will be aired, but I'm sure everyone watching it will be moved by your words.

I am so amazed that something I wrote 2 1/2 years ago stayed with her and still held meaning. It was one of those little gestures that, truthfully, I almost never take the time to make. But I did and it has come back to me in a powerful way.

Guest Blogger!

2008-12-05T14:07:00.001-08:00

Blog, schmog....who has time for this? Now I am stooping to the lowest of the low. Elissa posted a story her 8 year old started and it inspired me to post the one Juliana is currently working on. (She's 8 as well and went to preschool with Chloe.)

Consider it a guest blogger and not a cop-0ut, 'kay?

The Magic Shoes by Juliana

DEDICATED TO ALL GUINEA PIGS

Mia Watson had an unbelievable imagination. She had written stories that had even been published! There was a door in Mia’s room that had never been opened before. Mia loved to make up stories about it. One day Mia went up to her room and saw that the door was open!!!!!!!!! She looked inside saw a pair of ruby red high heels with glitter on them. Mia tried them on. It felt like she was walking on clouds. “Oh.” Mia whispered “I feel like I am floating.” Then she noticed that some of the glitter from her shoe had come off. Now it was circling her feet….

The tornado got stronger and stronger. Finally it lifted Mia of the ground!!!!! Soon the tornado stopped. Mia looked around. If you looked hard, you could see a castle in the distance. The grass was emerald green. Mia was standing in a beautiful garden. She looked at herself. She was wearing a purple silk dress. That’s funny. Mia thought. I don’t remember wearing that. Then it hit her, she had gone back in time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot believe this. Mia thought. I must be dreaming. I can’t be in the time of dragons and knights. And in this time you don’t know what will happen….

Suddenly she heard a small voice. It said, “I can help you”. A little guinea pig crawled out of the bushes. “I am Julia.” The guinea pig said. “And I want to help you.” “Oh will you?” Mia exclaimed. “Yes.” Julia said. “Let’s get started.” Mia saw a trail of rocks and a block of wood that said, HOME in big letters. “Do you think we should follow that?” Julia said sarcastically. “Well duh!” Mia said. So off they went having no idea what was in store for them….

It was not long before trouble started. The two had not been walking for long when the rocks got to a quicksand river. They could see the rocks across the river but, there was no way to get across. “Well that’s a problem.” Julia said. “You think!” Mia said. “Well, there is some wood over there. We could build a bridge.” Julia suggested. “Good idea!” Mia said. “But how can we?” Julia thought about that for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that.” She said. “We could just jump.” Mia suggested. “Okay.” Julia said. “Great! I will jump with you in my arms. Be careful.” So they jumped. “WOOOOO WHOOOOOO” The girls shouted. When they got across they started to follow the rocks again. They walked and walked.

I Should Not Be Allowed To Live Independently

2008-11-02T13:58:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure where to start this charming anecdote. I think I'll go with the stressful board meeting I attended this morning. The one where I savagely chewed on bagels to keep from grinding the enamel off of my teeth. And to wash down those bagels, I enjoyed about three times as much coffee as I usually have.

Fast forward to just after lunch time when my phone rang. I picked it up with such gusto that I slammed the receiver into my face. In attempting to right my grip on the receiver (and probably in recoil from the blow to my jaw), the phone flew out of my hand with such force that it hit the edge of the kitchen counter, the plastic belt clip flew off in one direction and the phone skittered to a stop on the wood floor. David picked it up and explained to my mom what happened: "Mom just hit herself in the face with the phone, then dropped it." I think it was the everyday, matter-of-fact tone he used that put my mother into such hysterics that she couldn't even speak.

Now you'll excuse me while I go check for a bruise.

A Personal Best

2008-10-27T12:08:00.000-07:00

Last night we went to dinner at Red Lobster which is Juliana's favorite place to eat. She has a passion for shrimp scampi which probably dates back to the time I ate my weight in shrimp while pregnant with her. If you asked her to rank her favorite holidays, it would probably look like this: Chanukah, Diwali, and Endless Shrimp. Last night she scored a new personal best and ate 40 shrimp. (I am so proud! Can the hot dog eating contest be far behind?)
Luckily we didn't have a repeat of when she was six. That time she managed to down 34 shrimp. A few minutes after finishing she reported:

"I can feel them swimming around in my stomach!"

followed closely by:

"I have a lot of spit in my mouth."

I whisked her out of the restaurant and into the cold night air which settled her stomach and averted disaster. Now I just need to teach her to binge drink....

It's Way Easier To Do This Here Than On AOL

2008-10-13T12:32:00.000-07:00

I shamelessly stole this from The Bloggess. It just gets funnier and funnier the more I watch it.

Here I am!

2008-10-10T14:17:00.000-07:00

Well, that was completely painless. Not sure I can post without Comic Sans, though...

Moving On

2008-10-09T21:05:00.000-07:00

Ok, so AOL Journals is going to be gone soon. Not sure what I'm going to do....I may transfer over to Blogger or I may just write on Facebook. I assume most anybody who reads is already on my friend list. If you lurk and want to keep reading, shoot me an email (Indy1016@aol.com) so I can figure out what will work best.

Lymph Node Revisited

2008-10-02T14:27:00.000-07:00

As you all know, I started with a swollen lymph node two weeks ago. Iemailed my doctor last week and she said that if it didn't resolve overthe next week to come see her. It was still swollen (particularly inthe mornings) so I made an appointment for Friday. Yesterday, though,I started feeling pressure in the left side of my neck. It felt likesomething was pushing on my throat from the inside. It didn'tinterfere with swallowing, but it didn't feel normal. I called thedoctor and was able to move my appointment up to today.

My ever-helpful husband is, of course, on the other side of thecontinent. That didn't help my stress level. I went off to the doctorthis morning with the very real feeling that this could a life-changingday. I just knew that whatever I was feeling shouldn't be there. Iactually contemplated packing a bag and having it in the car since Iwas sure there was a good chance they were going to throw me directlyinto the hospital. (Now before you think I am 100% insane, I did havean incident about 12 years ago when they sent me off to have an MRI ofmy brain and then threw me directly into the hospital.)

I got to the doctor's office and was so on edge that I literally jumped and yelped when the nurse called me back.

When my doctor came in, I told her my story. She listened carefully,while typing notes into my chart. I love my doctor because I can tellher things like my two self-diagnosis theories: 1. A spider bit my neckand now there is an egg sac growing there which will soon burst openwith tiny spider babies and 2. Clearly Lymphoma.

She got up and started to feel my neck. She finally got to the gland Iwas concerned about. She stopped to feel her own neck for comparison. She felt my neck some more. She then told me, "I am not even close tofreaking out about this".

Her plan of action was to give it another week or so and she suggestedI take some anti-inflammatories. I couldn't believe her spectacularlack of concern. Why was she not rushing me off for bloodwork or a CTscan? For God's sake, she just gave me another variation of "it'sprobably viral". Seeing that I was not yet willing to give up my graspon a dramatic outcome, she did refer me to ENT. She suggested Ischedule an appointment with them and then, if things resolved, tocancel it.

As I went to leave, she gave me one last piece of advice: I wasforbidden to touch my neck. No poking, no pressing on the gland, nofeeling for swelling, no nothing. She then went on to tell me how sheonce went to her own doctor with (and she used air quotes here) "breastcancer" which was really a pulled muscle in her chest wall that sheaggravated and irritated by poking and jabbing to feel the "tumor".

I thanked her and assured her that I'd be the first to tell her "I toldyou so" when the baby spiders were born. She offered to take one as apet when that happened. I left and I have no doubt she finished off byadding the "crazy munchausen hypochondriac" code to my chart.

Happy Rosh Hashanah!

2008-09-30T17:10:00.000-07:00

Trying to embed....

Oh well, linking instead.

Having A Doctor In The Family Isn't As Helpful As You Might Think

2008-09-21T21:24:00.000-07:00

On Friday, I noticed that a lymph node under my jaw was swollen. Earlier in the week, I'd noticed a red and itchy spot on my neck wheresomething had bitten me. I assumed the two were probably connected. The next morning, though, the swelling was much worse. Seeing as Itend toward hypochondria anyhow, I quizzed my doctor husband. He, asusual, was unconcerned. He, as usual, dismissed it as possibly beingsomething viral. He knows I hate being told that. (Ok, sure, I once paged him at work to tell him I was positiveI had anthrax. That one did turn out to be a virus, actually.)

We had the following conversation over breakfast:

Me: Don't forget about the bite on my neck....maybe some kind of spider bit me. Maybe it was a brown recluse!

Him: They don't live around here.

Me: But this isn't normal.

Him: Does the floor of your mouth feel ok?

Me: (panicking slightly and poking around with my tongue) I think so. Yes. Why? What does that mean?

Him: Just making sure you don't have any sort of infection there.

Me: Well, what symptoms should I look out for?

Him: (without looking up from the newspaper) Difficulty breathing.

Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to shriek) What? Don't say that! That's not funny! Why would you say that when you know you're leavingtown tomorrow? What am I going to do?

Him: (finally turning to look at me and speaking in a voice usuallyreserved for slow children): Do you want me to show you where the 9and the 1 are on the phone?

Three Things

2008-09-02T21:32:00.000-07:00

Three funny things David said today:

1. This morning I had encouraged him to change from shorts to long pants as it wasquite chilly. By the afternoon, though, it had warmed upconsiderably. Leaving school he announced loudly, "I am NOT wearing pants toschool tomorrow!"

2. Upon finding out that there is a new kid named "Coyote" in hislily-white suburban school, he said to me very sincerely, "I bet he'sNative American."

3. Ritu was watching Candy Crowley reporting on the news. David looked at her and observed "That's a bulky lady."

Back To School

2008-09-02T15:00:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of school! I'm sitting here in complete silence and I couldn't be happier. David started 6th grade (his last year at the elementary school <sniff>) and Juliana is in third. David has the same teacher as last year as he is in a 5/6 blend. Juliana moved up to a new teacher, but it's the same one David had for 3rd and 4th grade so we were all pleased. Here are the little angels this morning:

As has been our custom on the first day of school for the last three years, a group of us went out to lunch. This year we went to a new Thai restaurant in town. It's a lovely sunny place with those pretty jewel colored pendant lights hanging down. As our group numbered 10, they pushed some tables together to accommodate all of us. I was one of the last to arrive so I ended up at the far end of the table. After we ordered, I walked down to talk to my friends at the other end. There was a long banquette running along one side, so I sat there and chatted until the waitress started bringing the food. I got up to make my way back to my seat and as I stood, my head hit something hard. Turns out that when they pushed together the tables, it left one of pendant lights just hanging over empty space. Well, I shouldn't say empty space; in fact, it was the space my head was occupying when I stood up. I tried to play it off and managed to walk back to my chair without clutching my head with both hands. I'd hit the light with such force that it was still swinging madly on it's wire when the waitress returned and I saw her actually reach up and steady it with her hand. Nothing says back to school like Thai food and a head injury.

A Vote In Favor Of Online Shopping

2008-08-24T20:58:00.000-07:00

Well, I managed to outdo myself today.

This morning I had the chance to go shopping and have lunch with a girlfriend. It was one of the rare chances I've had to be out and about like a grown up all summer long. We went to an art festival where we browsed to our heart's content. Then we did some shopping. You know how some days nothing fits or even looks worth trying on? Today I was having an "on" day. I found things I liked that fit, looked good, and were even on sale. I tell you, I was on a roll. We stopped to have lunch at a nice restaurant overlooking the water. My friend put it perfectly when she described our day as "civilized".

After lunch we decided to continue shopping. We wandered into an Anthropologie type store that I would never usually bother with. But I was on a hot streak! I decided to try on some trendy tops to see if the magic would continue. As I pulled one over my head, the collar sort of flipped and the price tag, which was made of heavy duty card stock flew up and hit me in the face. I checked for damage in the mirror, and sure enough, the tag had sliced the edge of my nostril. I was actually bleeding. And did I have a tissue in my purse? Of course not. My friend offered to get me one, but all she could come up with was a paper towel. The good news is that I managed to not bleed on any of the merchandise. The bad news is that I had to walk back to the car with a wadded up, bloody paper towel pressed to my face.

Adventures With Laundry Baskets

2008-08-22T11:06:00.000-07:00

It comes as a shock to exactly no one that I am what you might refer toas clumsy.   One of my major downfalls is the seemingly innocuouslaundry basket. This is especially problematic as I do laundry onpretty much a daily basis. On successive days last week I had thefollowing adventures:

I was carrying a basket filled with clean, folded laundryupstairs. As I know I have a problem gauging widths with the basket infront of me, I made sure to turn it so that I was holding itlengthwise, thereby eliminating the problem of fitting throughdoorways.   At the top of the steps, I turned to enter my bedroom. Iknew I'd make it smoothly into the room so I was moving at a fairlygood clip. Turns out that I'd neglected to calculate the need for alarger turning radius with the basket sticking that much further out infront of me. I realized this when I turned to the left but instead ofmoving effortlessly into the bedroom, I hit the right side of the doorframe with such force that the air exiting my lungs made an OOOOOFingsound loud enough for the children to come check on me. By the graceof God, I managed to avoid pinballing myself right back down thestairs. In the midst of all this, I found myself thinking what anextremely effective Heimlich maneuver this would make. (Sure, you'relaughing now, but you'll be thanking me when this little trick savesyour mocking, black-hearted life.

The very next day I carried a basket of dirty sheets and towels down the stairs. Lesson learned, this time I made sure to hold it the regular way.   As I passed by the downstairs bathroom on the wayto the washer I decided to grab the hand towel and add it to the load. I shifted the laundry basket under my left arm and side- stepped into the bathroom to reach for the towel. My momentum into the bathroom was halted, yet again, by the width ofthe basket.   Like that claw thingy that Batman throws, the basket had effectively locked me in place. I stretched out my right arm towards the towel. No good. Ibent my knees and reached again. So close. No way was I going to letthat son of a bitch basket win. Using it to my advantage, I let thetightly wedged basket counterbalance me as I made one final lungetowards the towel. Success! Suck it, laundry basket!!   Honest toGod, I felt a surge of triumph. At, um, overcoming my own stupidityand lack of spatial ability.

<sigh>

I Promise!

2008-08-20T15:06:00.000-07:00

Where has August gone? Maybe you, like me, have had your time sucked away by the Olympics. You know, where you stay up late watching things that you would never watch if they weren't Olympics? Like, say, water polo? Or women's softball? But I can't blame my lack of blogging entirely on patriotism. I had a few other major distractions like plowing through the Twilight series in a couple of weeks. (I think there is a special place in literary hell for me because I started To Kill A Mockingbird, then put it down 1/3 of the way through to whip through the last three Twilight books.) Also, I may have developed a teeny-tiny new addiction to Facebook. It reminds me of my old days on AOL (all 13 years of them). You can sign on and see if your friends are there! You can chat! Look at pictures! Send those mystery hatching eggs! Superpoke!!

Are those enough excuses? My point is that tomorrow we leave for 6 days in Sunriver and I plan to do a nice chunk of blogging while we're there. So, get nice and comfy there on the edge of your seats.

Now I'm off to update my Facebook status.

Juliana's One Woman Show

2008-08-01T20:14:00.000-07:00

Over 4th of July, we spent a few days in Seattle. I enjoy traveling; Ilike the sight-seeing, the change of scenery and being removed from thedaily grind of meals and laundry. But there is one thing about traveling that makes me never want to leave home: having my entire family in one hotel room. When the kids were younger, itwas mainly about trying to get them to fall asleep with us right in theroom. Many an evening was spent sitting on the floor outside thebathroom trying to read by the crack of light filtering through the door. Now that the kids are older, we have fights about who has to sleeptogether. Often we'll end up with a boy bed and a girl bed. On ourfirst night in Seattle, we ended up getting a roll away bed so the kidsdidn't have to sleep together and so that I could actually share a bedwith my husband. (This of course led to a $20 charge and more fightingover who had to sleep on the roll away. (That would be David as he is the highmaintenance sleeper in the family.))

That night, I fell asleep fairly early but around 11:30 I was awakened byJuliana making fussy sounds. I got up and checked on her, but thecovers were pulled over her head and I thought she was asleep. I climbed backin bed but soon heard her thrashing around and whimpering some more. Igot up yet again and pulled the covers back only to find her on the verge of tearssaying, "I'm so tired by I can't sleep because of Daddy's loudsnoring!"

I stifled a laugh, snuggled with her, and she fell right asleep. In the morning she puton this one woman show to demonstrate her night. How I wish I'dhad a video camera. Hopefully the still photos will do the trick.

"This was David"

(gentle snoring)

"This was Daddy"

( loud snoring)

"This was Mommy"

(such angelic sleeping!)

"This was me"

(gritted teeth and frustrated whimpering)

Quotable Quotes

2008-07-28T21:38:00.000-07:00

Juliana, as we entered the large walk-in freezer at Costco: "Now I know what a waffle feels like."

In other news, David has twice now used the phrase "That's what she said" correctly. I am so proud. Of course, it doesn't help that he has a mother who, after spotting a neighbor emptying two water containers, explained to him why it would be both funny and inappropriate to yell, "Nice jugs!" out the car window at him.

Relay for Life 2008

2008-07-23T14:36:00.000-07:00

On July 12th, my family participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Relay is a 24 hour event dedicated to raising money to fight cancer along with taking time to remember those who have lost their lives to the disease and showing support for those who are currently battling it. If you have a Relay event in your area, you should definitely check it out. While some people (like us) pitch a tent and hang in there for all 24 hours, the entire event has an almost carnival like atmosphere. There are games, bake sales, auctions, and all sorts of fun activities to raise money for the ACS. The Relay part of it is that each team tries to have a representative out walking the track for the entire 24 hours to symbolize how cancer never takes a day off. (Our team managed walkers for 21 and a half hours, so um, maybe cancer took a quick nap?)

Last year we participated mainly because our good friend was one of the event co-ordinators. Our team raised a good bit of money and we had a lot of fun, so we were looking forward to this year.

Our family is fortunate in that we haven't been touched directly by cancer. Fighting cancer has pretty much been an abstract concept for us. This year, in the span of about a month, we found out about three people we knew who were diagnosed with cancer. Well, four, if you count Emma. Which I do. One was the grown son of one of my friends, one is a mom who has a son on David's soccer team, and the third is a very dear friend of mine named Susan.

I first met Susan on the old AOL Pregnancy Pal message boards back in 1997 when I was pregnant with David and she was pregnant with her son, Joseph. Even after the board split up (like they always do!) Susan and I have been part of an email loop that has lasted all these years. Although I've only spent time with her in person once, we have a shared history that runs deep.

Susan is still in the process of being fully diagnosed. She has Stage 1 breast cancer and so far, things are looking cautiously optimistic. Susan is lovely, gentle, and even-keeled. She tolerates my sarcasm and evil humor beautifully and I'm sure she spends plenty of time praying for my soul. ;-) Anyhow, Susan, this year I dedicated my Relay experience to you.

Well, not sure if you can read that....but I had her name on my back.

Our event is held at the local high school and as the sun goes down,the track is lined with luminaria bags. Each one bears the name on ofsomeone who has been affected by cancer. Here are some of the luminaria bags made in support of Susan.

And here's one Juliana made. Note the guinea pig with halo and wings.

If you would like to donate to my Relay for Life team, just let me know. Even though the event is over, contributions are still being accepted into August.

Holding Pattern

2008-07-21T20:28:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking we are never going to name this pig. Juliana and I are leaning towards Juniper. David remains adamant about Sparky. I'm getting emails pushing Polly. And there's a disgruntled contingent displeased that Gigi didn't make the list. In the meantime, we're still calling her Smoky (Smokey?) and the good thing about that name is that it has immediately lent itself to a number of good nicknames which, if you were not aware, is eminently important in a guinea pig name. Smoky has already been called Smoky-Dokey-Artichokey, Smokely-Dokely, Smokester and The Smokinator.

In other news, here is my injury of the day: David left the toilet seat up and when I went to put it down, the lid came down with it and banged me on the arm hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. Last week I gave myself a second degree burn on my thumb when I attempted to take a cake out of the oven and managed to position the pot-holder incorrectly. I wonder if anyone would read a blog entitled Injuries Du Jour...

Vote!

2008-07-19T13:58:00.000-07:00

I Am The Guinea Pig Whisperer!

2008-07-17T22:03:00.000-07:00

Today's Update

2008-07-17T08:26:00.000-07:00

Here's a Smokey and Spots update: We moved Smokey's cage almost rightup against Spotty's and suddenly they discovered each other. Spotsspent a lot of time last night up on her hind legs staring at Smokey. Smokey, who is mellow as can be and seems mostly interested in food (Idon't think she was optimally cared for at her old home and I figureshe thinks she's on a cruise right now what with the constant eatingavailable) didn't seem bothered by Spots and her scrutiny. At onepoint, though, Smokey hauled her big fluffy self over to look at Spotsand they spent some time sniffing at each other and chewing happily onthe bars of the cages. We've had them each separately on the floorhaving "run around time" so I think they are gradually getting used toeach other's scent.

Also, here are the name suggestions from the blog/email so far: Lassie, Bob,Jumana (still haven't googled this and not gonna risk it with my 8 yearold here reading along!) Joe, and Gigi. (Juliana just said. "I thinkthe best one so far is Gigi. Did you let them know it's a girl? Gagasuggested Bob because she's Gaga. <sigh>") I'm not sure youpeople are really applying yourselves where guinea pig names areconcerned!

More later. The kids and I are going out on a friend's boat thisafternoon, so providing we don't meet a watery death, I'll type upJuliana's name list this evening.

Introducing!

2008-07-16T13:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we adopted a new guinea pig. We'd hoped to get one from theHumane Society, but after two weeks of patiently waiting for anappropriate one to be available for adoption, we looked at otheroptions. Monday I found one on Craig's List that looked promising, andafter emailing back and forth with the current owner, we drove over tomeet her. This family had adopted her (also from Craig's List) a fewmonths ago, but seeing as they had a baby, a toddler, two dogs, and acat they had their hands full and not enough time or energy for her.

She turned out to be a beautiful silver agouti guinea pig. Agoutiguinea pigs have thick fur and each individual hair has two colors. Inher case, she has black fur with white tips. Her chin and belly arepure white. Did I mention how gorgeous she is? Here, see foryourself.....

Isn't she a crack up? She is big and fluffy and looks like a chinchilla/rabbit/squirrel/marmoset/guinea pig. Two people have already likened her to a silverback gorilla. (When my mom saw her, her first words were: Jesus Christ! She's huge!)

So far we have her in the small cage until we can work on introducing her to Spots. Hopefully they will get along nicely. She came with the name Smokey, but I think we're going to change it. Juliana has a list with dozens and dozens of potential guinea pig names. Maybe I'll figure out how to put a poll on here and let everyone vote. In the meantime, we're open to suggestions!

Edited to add: Dammit, getting the red rectangles again. Help! Gonna try something different,.

At Least He's Honest

2008-07-07T17:12:00.000-07:00

David: What's for dinner?

Me: I've already told you three times.

David: I know. I just like to hear the sound of my own voice.

Moving Forward

2008-06-19T16:23:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a week. The mirrors are all uncovered again and we'removing forward. Thank you all for your kind words. Sarah, your poem was especially awesome! I'm going to cut and paste it here so everyone has a chance to see it.

A TRIBUTE TO EMMA

Emma, Emma, the beloved pet
Emma, Emma, they took you to the vet
Your passing has left a sad, sombre mood
Dying......not the best way to show your gratitude

Emma, Emma, sweetest little pig I never did meet
Emma, Emma, the blogs about you were always a treat
Yes, Indy's blogs about you were always fanatic and kind
Yet, sometimes I wondered, "Has she lost her mind??"

Emma, Emma, blog readers shared in your life through internet post
Emma, Emma, your passing will therefore be felt coast to coast
You've been immortalized by Indy whose blogs were funny and savvy
I just pray she's forgotten about wanting that big, gawky cavy!

So, dear Emma, on to greener pastures you go
You were truly the bestest guinea pig I never did know

Emma is buried under a tree in the backyard (and well,there were a lot of roots under that tree which made it hard to dig, soshe may be more like planted than buried) and Juliana made a lovelymarker for it.

I've got a bunch of houseguests coming tonight for the weekend, so I'vebeen busy getting ready for that. In the meantime, here are a fewpicture. This was taken the morning of the surgery. I commented onJuliana's cute outfit and she informed me that she had "dressed likeEmma".

She was an excellent piggy. We all miss her little tilty head. I missthe way she would nuzzle into my hair and lick my chin. I think bymiddle of next week we''ll start looking for a new companion forSpots. She's seemed rather subdued, and I think a friend would help.

Edited to add: Sorry for the tiny pictures. My pictures were showing up as red blocks (not even just the dreaded red X) and then when I went to try and add them again, they were red blocks on Snapfish! They look fine as thumbnails, but when I try to see the larger view, I get a big red block. So all I could post were the thumbnails. Any ideas?

Well, Hell

2008-06-12T22:54:00.000-07:00

RIP Emma 10:35 PM

Emma

2008-06-12T19:09:00.000-07:00

We brought Emma home around 6:30 this evening. She's still pretty out of it. Her procedure ended up being a bit more complicated and invasive than they thought and they also found an abscess in her right ear which accounts for the lingering head tilt. She's on three meds right now and has to be syringe fed a special mixture. Her belly is all shaved and the poor thing looks like she's been gutted. The vet said that with a regular spaying, she would've perked up by now but because she had so much done to her plus the underlying abscess, she's going to take longer to bounce back. Right now she's a mess--can't stand or walk, won't eat--and I'm doing my best to stay optimistic.

Oh, and all the extra things they had to do ended up doubling the cost. I may need to get a job just to pay off the vet bill. I'll post more when there's something to report.

Ready For Summer

2008-06-12T06:36:00.000-07:00

It's 6:15 AM. I got up at 5:30 and fed Spots and Emma their breakfast. Emma and I had a nice long snuggle and now she's isolated in the "sick bay" which is our spare, small cage. Ritu is going to drop her off at the vet on his way to work. You'll be comforted to know that she seems calm and resolute. I've seen no indication that she is struggling with the loss of her womanhood.

Now I'm sitting here with my coffee and laptop. I considered getting back in bed, but today is the last day of school and I thought I'd enjoy some early morning quiet time. I'm actually thrilled about school ending. I'm so ready to be done with schedules and time commitments and packing those damn lunches. (Here's a great post from Deana that sums up exactly how I feel about summer break.)

Thus far, June has been cold and cloudy, so it's hard to get entirely into the summer mindset. Allegedly, the weather is going to break today, but I'll believe it when I see it. One of my friends is convinced the weather people are involved in a vast conspiracy to keep us all from cracking. He says that every night he watches the news and they tell him that tomorrow will be cloudy, but the next day it will be sunny. He makes it through the cloudy day and again checks the weather. Again he is told tomorrow will be cloudy, but the NEXT day the sun will come out. That elusive sunny day never arrives, but it's always right there keeping us hopeful. (It's June 12th and I believe we've had exactly one sunny day this month. And not only that, it's been cold. Like, drag out your warm jacket cold. Like, yesterday one of my friends had gloves on cold.)

I have lots of grandiose plans for the summer. I got energized the other day and decided to devote the summer to painting a bunch of rooms in my house. (Hey! It could happen!) I want to find new places to go on nature walks. I want to go berry picking. I want to spend some time each day reading aloud to the kids. Mostly I want to spend long lazy days sitting out in the greenspace with my friends while the kids run and play.

If you have fun ideas for summer activities, leave me a comment and let me know. I saw a cool one that involved giving each kid a skein of yard and letting them wrap it all around a stand of trees until they've created a big spider web fort.

For Everything Else, There's MasterCard

2008-06-10T14:43:00.000-07:00

Well.

You know and I know that only one thing could bring me back to blogging:

It's time for another round of Adventures in Guinea Pig Medicine!

About a week and a half ago, I picked up Emma from the cage and noticeda large lump on her underside, close to where her right rear legattaches to her body. Wanna see?

(And God love Snapfish. You know how they want you to buy their products by superimposing your photos on calendars etc? Snapfish just suggested a lovely mug emblazoned with Emma's lump.)

She seemed perfectly happy and was eating andacting just fine. Nonetheless, I took her to the veterinary practice and had anappointment with the same vet who saw her when she had her last headtilt episode. This vet is a wee tiny little Asian woman and I love hercompletely. She is so knowledgeable and sweet and it doesn't hurt thatshe refers to Emma as "Gorgeous". She asked me some questions andpointed out a symptom I had overlooked, namely a thinning of her fur onher rear leg.

After palpating her sides and abdomen she had herdiagnosis.

Adorable Tiny Vet: I'm pretty sure she has cystic ovaries.
Me: Well, really, who doesn't?

Apparently cystic ovaries are a very common finding in guinea pigs. (I'll admit to never once even considering that my guinea pig HADovaries.) Cystic ovaries result in an increase in estrogen productionwhich causes a proliferation of mammary tissue. That accounts for thelump. Who wants to guess how they solve this situation? I'll give youa minute to think about it.

Did you guess a tiny little guinea pig hysterectomy?

I asked thefollowing questions: Isn't she a bit old (we think she's around 4years old and a guinea pig's life expectancy is 5-7 years) to deal withthe surgery? and also: What happens if we just don't do anything? Thevet told me that she has spayed guinea pigs as old as 5 1/2. As forleaving things be, over time the extra estrogen will begin to formtumors. She also said something about Emma's uterus eventually fillingup with <gag> pus <barf>.

She wanted to do a needle biopsy on the lump to rule out any sort ofabscess. She also offered to trim Emma's nails for me. She took herto the back to do these things and I sat there anxiously waiting for mybaby to be returned to my care. I cringed when I heard the highpitched squeal that guinea pigs make when they are in pain. Finallythey returned and the vet told me there was no sign of an abscess andshe felt confident in her diagnosis. Then she told me Emma wasperfectly fine with the needle biopsy; it was the nail trimming she hadobjected to.

The vet printed me up an estimate of the cost of the surgery and toldme to think about what I wanted to do and then call her back. Theproposed cost of the procedure plus bloodwork plus pain meds came to$235. I collected myestimate and my guinea pig and went to pay the$99 fee I had incurred that day ($48 for the office visit, $11 foraspirating the mass, $25 for cytology, and $15 to trim her nails).

Soooooooo, on Thursday morning I'll be dropping Emma off between 8 and9 AM to get spayed. They are going to run bloodwork before theprocedure to make sure she is healthy enough to withstand theanesthesia and if all goes as planned, we'll be able to pick her upafter 4:00 PM the same day. When I scheduled the surgery, the tech informed me thatEmma needs to be fasting after 6:00 AM. Yes, my guinea pig requiresthat I wake up at 5:30 to feed her breakfast, then place her insolitary confinement until it's time to take her to the vet.

But how could I resist this gorgeous pig?

WANT!!!

2008-04-16T11:33:00.000-07:00

Cuddly critter seems lost and is found

Checking In

2008-04-15T17:06:00.000-07:00

I've just got time for a quick check in. I've got a bunch of family coming in this week for my dad's funeral and Passover. Saturday night, I'm having 22 people for a sit down dinner for the first night of Passover. That will be a charming follow up to Friday morning, when we're having a private graveside burial for my Dad. We'll be burying his cremated remains which the funeral home refers to as "cremains". Every time I hear that word, I think they've mixed his ashes with dried cranberries....

Doh

2008-04-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

So, here's something kind of funny about when your dad kills himself. And by "kind of funny" I mean "horrifyingly morbid".

Let's say your dad shoots himself and even though you don't knowexactly how it happened (was he calculating and determined? scaredand tearful?) and you only have a vague idea of where (in the halloutside the bathroom) you still manage to create an image of it thatappears unbidden in your head when you try to do things like, say, fallasleep. And after spending a few weeks with this image your mind returns to it with such frequency that it almost becomes comforting. And then you suddenly remember Oh shit! He wasleft-handed. And you have to adjust the image accordingly and startall over again.

Confessions of a CF Husband

2008-04-02T20:46:00.000-07:00

Are you guys reading this blog? http://cfhusband.blogspot.com/

I just found it a few days ago and it's absolutely riveting. The blog is written by Nate who is married to Tricia. Tricia has cystic fibrosis and was on the waiting list for a double lung transplant until she found out she was pregnant. Her baby, Gwyneth, is doing well despite being born 12 weeks ago at 25 weeks gestation. A donor lung match was found today and Tricia is, at this very moment, undergoing a double lung transplant.

With everything going on in my life, I'm thrilled to root for people who are desperate simply to live, love, and raise their child.

My Dad

2008-04-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

Thirteen days ago I was awakened by a phone call from my uncle tellingme my father was dead. I know some people prefer the term "passedaway" but to me, that conjures an image of someone gently slipping fromlife. My dad went out with a bang. Literally. He shot himself in thehead.

My dad and I did not have a close relationship. He struggled withan addiction to pain medication for most of my life. This addictioncaused him to lose his medical license, spend time in jail, andultimately commit suicide. Whether from the extensive drug use orperhaps from undiagnosed Asperger's, my dad did not know how to connectwith people the way most people do. We used to call him Mr. Spockbecause he was so much more comfortable with logic and rationalizationthan with emotion.

Over the past ten years or so, my father and I hammered out asemblance of a relationship. This meant talking on the phone maybe 4or 5 times a year and me sending updated pictures of the kids twice ayear. In the past few years, my father began sending me books he'dread that he thought I might like. He'd call and ask if I'd beinterested in a book about building bridges or sea battles or zeppelinflight. Yes, I'd say. Yes to everything. Then the books would arrivesometimes with a scrawled note attached to one saying "Don't miss thisone" or "Superb dialog". I read some of them and put the rest on myshelf. They were books I never would have chosen for myself and theywere fascinating.

In the past few years, my father also started ending conversations bysaying "I love you." I was surprised the first time he said it, butmanaged to say it back. When he died, I was at peace with therelationship we had. It wasn't much, but it was a small connection. Ithink it was the best he could offer me and I accepted it as such. Nowthat he is dead, I am saddened but not heartbroken. That I am onlysaddened is the part that breaks my heart.

Death and Disneyland

2008-03-23T09:39:00.000-07:00

We've had some bad news here at HinJew central. I found out Wednesday morning that my dad had died Tuesday night. We weren't close but it still came as a huge shock. I plan to write more about it, but right now we're at the Portland airport getting ready to board our flight to Disneyland. In the midst of all the misery, I am happy to be spending my spring break with my family making happy memories.

Cork Floor Pictures

2008-03-15T17:52:00.000-07:00

First things first....Juliana and her beloved mechanical pencils!

Next we have pictures of the Michigan office:

Here are some close ups of the cork floor. It comes in rectangular "planks". This gives you a good look at the grain. The floor itself is perfectly smooth because it comes with two layers of polyurethane already on it.

Here's where it meets the wood flooring in our entryway. It looks a lot darker in this picture than it actually is.

Today, after letting it sit empty for 5 days, we finally started working on putting the furniture back in. Exciting stuff! Except for one small thing. The polyurethane ONCE AGAIN started coming up everywhere the furniture made contact with it.

Somebody come kill me.

Blah Blah Blog

2008-03-14T13:08:00.000-07:00

Let's see, where have I been and what have I been doing?

For starters, the Zoloft has reached a nice, therapeutic level. Oh, did I forget to mention my clinical depression and need to start on meds? Ooops. Silly me. The good news is that I'm feeling like my old self again and only drag out the depression diagnosis when I need some sympathy (like forgiveness for sporadic blogging) or to get out of something (like being on the PTA board).

In general things have been going well. I was busy with Juliana's birthday (and yes, rest assured she did indeed receive mechanical pencils along with her olives) and then we spent a weekend in San Francisco to witness my niece do a spectacular job at her bat mitzvah. After that we had science fair projects to finish, a viola concert, and the beginning of the spring soccer season. In addition to all my regular school and synagogue volunteering, I'm taking an adult ed class through the synagogue that meets twice a month.

Also, we're still working on the office. You'll remember that I finally finished removing the wallpaper. Did I show pictures of the walls now painted in official licensed University of Michigan colors? Ritu and I (and Ron The Floor Guy) decided to put down a cork floor in the office. We felt it would reflect the mood of the room better than a more formal wood floor. Plus, fraction of the price, people. I grew up in a house that had a cork family room floor, so I was all for it. We chose a nice dark color that looks almost like leather. Ron came and installed it and put down an extra coat of polyurethane which was great until two days later then the polyurethane began to separate from the cork. I am not kidding when I say that you could peel the polyurethane off like you were peeling dried Elmer's glue off of your hands. I am also not kidding when I say that the kids were actually asking to help peel the floor. Trusty Ron came right back over and (with our enthusiastic help) spent two days getting the coating peeled off. He put down a different type of polyurethane which seems to be holding thus far. Ritu put together the Ikea desk that's been in boxes since November and we plan to start moving furniture in this weekend.

Lastly, I've started watching America's Next Top Model. Seems like everyone I know watches it and I've never been organized enough to get in on the beginning of a season. Oh, what delicious fun! I could do without all the squealing though.

I'm off to take pics of the office. I'll try to get them uploaded soon but please remember that <insert weak eye-blinking here> I am clinically depressed.

Happy Birthday, Juliana!

2008-02-17T14:55:00.000-08:00

Birthday wishes DO come true!

I Want Whatever She's On

2008-02-12T21:15:00.000-08:00

Today at breakfast, Juliana remarked "I feel like we live in a crayon box because of all the colors around us."

On the walk to school she showed me a wet splotch on the sidewalk that resembled a butterfly and a rock that looked like a heart.

For her birthday she has asked for five cans of olives and a mechanical pencil.

An Eggsellent Adventure

2008-02-10T20:34:00.000-08:00

I live in a lovely subdivision that was once farmland and pastures. Most of the houses are about 15 years old and the neighborhood isbuilt around numerous large, open greenspaces. There are cul de sacsand cherry trees, lots of sidewalks and a friendly feel. The one exception to the uniformity of the subdivision is asmall, rundown, older house hidden behind an overgrown tangle ofbushes. A collection of rusty vehicles and machinery sits alongside thehouse and as you walk by, you can sometimes hear roosters crowing. This is the last remaining holdout of the original farms. I have noidea who lives there, nor do I have any idea how much land is back thereor what goes on there. I never see anyone going in or out. The onlything that ever changes is that every now and then, a hand-markered signon a piece of cardboard that simply says "eggs" appears on the mailbox.

When I made my decision to eat more locally, I announced that the nexttime I saw the egg sign, I would march right up there, by God, and buysome eggs. The mystery of the house had me concerned, though. I was partiallyconvinced that the sign was simply there to lure unsuspecting women whowould then be kidnapped, killed and have their eggs harvested andsold. Or possibly have their eggs harvested, then killed. I'm notentirely sure of the proper sequence. The place is a little scary iswhat I'm trying to say.

Today my friend Karen and I took our daughters and went for a walk, Onthe way home, I noticed that the egg sign was up. I stopped in mytracks to decide what to do. Juliana was all for it, so I summoned mycourage and we crossed the street. We climbed the crumbling frontsteps and knocked on the door. A young man opened it and I inquiredabout the eggs. He said he only had one dozen and that it cost $2. Itold him I'd take it. I only had a five dollar bill and he went tolook for change, leaving the door open. The inside was dark andsmelled musty. He came back unable to find change and I told him notto worry about it. I took my dozen eggs (packaged in an old TraderJoe's carton) and we walked back to Karen's house.

The eggs were various sizes and shades of brown, except for one whichwas best described as green. I immediately started to second guess mypurchase. I have a slight egg issue, as it is. Every time I go to crackan egg, the fear of some slimy, three-quarters formed chick fallinginto my bowl flits across my mind. God knows what I would find insidethese eggs. Probably mutant baby alligators. With this on my mind, Igathered up my children and my eggs and got ready to go. I doublechecked my plans to walk in the morning with Karen's husband Jimmy. "Probably not", he said, "since you'll be suffering from dysentary." Ever helpful, that one.

When dinner time arrived, we grabbed the camera and got started.

I mentioned that green one, right?

Here you can see the variation in size next to (as Laura Ingalls would say) a boughten one.

First we cracked a regular egg for comparison's sake. Then I thoroughlyrinsed three of the other eggs. Juliana did all the cracking. Here'sa side by side comparison with the store bought egg on the left.

Immediately you could see a difference. The yolk was larger and more richly colored. The white was more plentiful, glossier and firmer.

Here's another one. Still consistently better colored. Not sure ifyou can see how much higher the yolk was than the store bought egg.

Here's the store bought one.

We braved the green one. Here's David looking scared of it.

Juliana got to work scrambling them up. The color was exquisite.

Turns out these eggs were delicious. They cookedup so fluffy andthere was a firmness to them that was delightful. Unlike the scrambledeggs I'm used to that are slippery and have to be scooped up with yourfork, these were light and tender, but dense and didn't fall apart when the forkhit them.

The kids ate every last bite. And so far, no dysentary!

Too Funny

2008-02-01T12:26:00.000-08:00

Hi! Remember me? I used to blog here? Well, I'm back. Slowly, but surely.

Anyhow, this was way too funny to pass up. It's Sarah Silverman's tribute to Jimmy Kimmel on his anniversary show.

Crafty New Year!

2008-01-08T20:39:00.000-08:00

I am so totally not a Martha Stewart type, but on New Year's Day we hada small brunch and Juliana and I decided to make party favors. Shepored over her Pink Princess Cookbook and we finally decided to makefortune cookies with happy messages to start the New Year off right.

First, she brainstormed fortunes. Here's a partial listingof what she came up with. (Could she be more full of sunshine? Iswear, a career at Hallmark awaits her.)

Your pets will be funny, cuddly, cute, & and awesome!

Hope this year is full of fun and learning!

Hope all your dreams come true.

May every day be excellent this year!

Have a great adventure this year.

Spend the year laughing.

Hope everything you learn is exciting.

Hope your world is full of friendship.

(I'll admit to adding one that said "Hope Voldermort doesn't get you this year." and another that said "Your hair looks great!"

We tried to print out the fortunes on some nifty vellum paper but allit did was jam the printer, so we settled for regular paper and cuteach one out with those scissors with the patterned edges. (See, Itold you I wasn't crafty. I assume those scissors have an actual name.)

Then we made the cookies. The recipe is so cute and easy. Basicallyyou start with a refrigerated pie crust, roll out any wrinkles and cutit into circles using a 3 inch round cookie cutter. You place a paperfortune on the circle, fold the dough in half, then fold it in half the otherdirection. Brush the top with a little water, dip it in colored sugarcrystals and bake until it's golden brown.

After they cooled, we were ready to package them. We'd visited acouple of party stores to find small Chinese take-out containers inassorted colors. We used a bag of cellophane shreds to make a nest inthe bottom for the cookie to rest on.

We made a dozen so that each person got a box with a single fortunecookie inside.

I Went To The Opera! (Sort Of)

2008-01-07T21:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, to celebrate our own Momdeplume's birthday, I took her tothe opera. Sort of. The Metropolitan Opera in New York City ispresenting a handful of their performances as high definition simulcaststhat can be viewed at movie theaters around the country.

As I've never been to the opera before, I decided that seeing one on a movie screen would be theperfect way to edge into the genre. The timing was right to helpcelebrate Mom's birthday so I called and suggested it. I was met withlukewarm enthusiasm. I got a light-handed version of typical Jewishguilt with a subtle "Well, if that's what you want to do, then let's do it." I told her to think aboutit and I'd call back to get her final answer. In themeantime I started to do some research. Here's the first thing Ilearned: You have to earn the right to see this simulcast. You'dthink finding a movie listing would be one of the simplest tasks theinternet performs. I googled and followed links and looked at movielistings until I considered tossing my computer out the window. Finally Ifound a vague scrap of information that listed a theater. Eventually Iwas able to find a movie time. Because it's a single showing on asingle day at a single theater (maybe there were more locations in myarea, but I couldn't find them) it doesn't get advertised as thoroughlyas regular movies. Despite my frustration, I felt a little virtuous tohave persevered long enough to get this much info. (Ritu assumed I wasjust looking in the wrong places. I told him to have at it. Hescrounged up the same scraps I got and admitted defeat.)

On the day of the show, I called my mom back and asked for her finalanswer. She was still a tiny bit on the fence, wishing that it was anopera she was familiar with. I pointed out that it was Hansel andGretel so we'd at least know the story. Finally I persuaded her withthe promise of popcorn for lunch. I picked her up and we set out inthe rain to find the theater. Here's the second thing I learned: Beprepared to shell out the big bucks. Because this is a limited closedcircuit showing, you will be paying for the privilege of seeing it. Myticket cost $22. Thank God my mom is a senior because that discount got her ticket down to $20. Yee-haw!

We got our tickets and stared at the concessionstand for a moment. Neither of us knew what opera/movie etiquettewas. Would it be tacky to munch our way through the show? We decidedfirst to wander into the theater under the guise of choosing seats. That way we could determine A) if we were the only suckers dumb enough topay $20 for a movie ticket and B) what we could buy to eat.

Turns out there were probably 40 people in the theater, many of themwith huge bags of popcorn. We threw our coats down on some seats andskipped back to the concession stand. Laden down with popcorn and dietcoke, we settled in. The theater continued to fill up and I would sayprobably 75 or more people were in attendance. The lights went down, the screen lit upand the sounds of the orchestra warming up in the pit could be heard. Now, these are advertised as "simulcasts" but if I understand itcorrectly, the show we saw was performed and filmed on January 1st.

Here's the third thing I learned: This version of Hansel and Gretel wasperformed in English. (Who knew?) And yet, there were still Englishsubtitles which were remarkably handy. Along with a stunning view ofeverything on stage, we, as a simulcast audience, we privy to a view ofsome of the backstage happenings and even a few interviews with castmembers during the intermission.

The show itself was utterly enchanting. I was so taken with it that Ieven (briefly) forgot to eat my popcorn. I knew to expect gorgeousvoices, but I had no idea that the acting would be so good or the setsand costumes so intriguing or that the show would be downright funnyand exuberant in places. I loved every minute of it; we both did. Infact, my mom said to me, "What a good idea this was!" Ah, vindication!

Here's the fourth thing I learned: If you get a chance to see aMetropolitan Opera simulcast DO IT. The next one is a showing ofMacbeth this Saturday, January 12th. (I don't know why these two areso close together--the other ones seem more spread out.) Here is a linkthat outlines the info and schedule nicely. Yes, it's pricy but even if you bought the most expensive ticket at the Met, you wouldn't get a view as clear and glorious as you get with the high definition broadcast. Not to mention popcorn.

An Open Letter To Trader Joe's

2008-01-01T16:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Trader Joe's,

We haven't known each other all that long. In fact, we only met about five years ago. You came highlyrecommended. As soon as it became official that we would be moving toOregon, people came out of the woodwork to sing your praises. "You aregoing to LOVE having Trader Joe's so close by!" everyone said. I'd nodmy head and feign excitement. After the limited shopping I had inNorth Carolina, I was just thrilled to shop anywhere without the word"Piggly" in the title.

The first time I stopped in to meet you, I was completelyunprepared. I came looking for diapers. Turns out you don't carrydiapers--well, maybe organic unbleached cotton ones or something, butnot the Huggies I was seeking. I took a quick trip up and down theaisles then left empty-handed. Sure, some of your products lookedintriguing, but clearly you were not going to meet my entire groceryneeds, so what was the point? In those days, I had a 5 year old and a2 year old in tow. I was most definitely not interested in adding moreshopping trips to my tenuous routine.

Eventually I found sometime to visit you alone to see what all the fuss was about. I wasinstantly charmed. Tiny little champagne grapes, jars of sweet-hotmustard, adorable graham cracker cats, and of course bottles of TwoBuck Chuck. I soon learned that the treats I brought home for the kidswent mostly uneaten. Apparently organic Jo-Jo cookies couldn't hold acandle to Oreos and the only person who liked the graham cracker catswas me. So I stopped shopping with the kids in mind and foundeven more to love. Now this was in the days when I had just lost over 50 pounds using WeightWatchers and I was always on the lookout for lowpoints foods. You were a mecca for that. Meringue cookies for 2points each, 3/4 of a cup of Puffins cereal for one point, and thepinnacle: Milk Chocolate Covered Soy Nuts. Points wise, thesetranslated into about 1 point for a tablespoon. That may not soundlike much but being able to grab a handful of them when I needed a hitof chocolate was instrumental in maintaining my weight loss. Mostnights I would make myself a sort of snack mix to eat while watching TVby using Puffins cereal, chocolate covered soy nuts, and a handful ofmini-marshmallows. I was thrilled with this development and no trip to see you was complete without 2 or 3 packages of your soy nuts in my cart.

This past year, I noticed that the milk chocolate ones wereincreasingly scarce. I asked and was told that they had beendiscontinued. This was a blow, indeed. I shot off an email ofcomplaint and soon received a form letter responseregistering my concern. On my next visit, I reluctantly choses acontainer of the dark chocolate ones. They weren't as goodas the milk chocolate ones, but hey, a relationship requires work by bothparties and I was able to make the adjustment. Over time I began toenjoy them and all was well. I felt we had successfully weatheredthis potentially stormy time. Then, this fall, Inoticed the dark chocolate ones were gone. I inquired with the cashierand was told they had been discontinued as well. I am not exaggeratingwhen I tell you I sighed loudly and asked her why you were trying to ruinmy life. She suggested I try the chocolate covered edamame. I stoppedmyself from suggesting she shut the hell up.

I came home and shot off another email, this one dripping withsorrow and disappointment. You wrote me back explaining thatfrequently rotating in new products kept things fresh and exciting. Youadmitted that limited shelf space meant that this had to be done at theexpense of older, established products. I couldn't believe you could be so selfish. Fresh and exciting for who? What about older, established CUSTOMERS? I had been faithful to youfor years and I didn't appreciate your disregard for my needs. I didsome internet searching and found entire message boards devoted to theheartbreak YOU inflict by discontinuing your products. It helped a little to know I wasn't alone.

I pulled myself together and tried to bounce back. I did moresearching assuming that these chocolate covered soy nuts must beavailable SOMEwhere--isn't this exactly why the internet exists? Yeah,well, here's a big fat thanks for nothing, internet. The only ones Ican find online have only one gram of fiber per serving. Your soy nutshad 5 grams. The fiber count is essential in making it a low-pointsfood. Fine You win. Are you happy now? I'm left with NOTHING. Whydo you hate me, Trader Joe's? All I've done is love you and given youmoney. When the Fearless Flyer comes out, I peruse it like food porn. And this, this is the thanks I get.

My next trip in, the cashier again suggested I try the chocolate coverededamame. Fine. I bought some. Not surprisingly, Ritu and I had thefollowing conversation:

"What did you think of the chocolate covered edamame I bought?"

"I tried it but I really didn't like it very much."

"Well, of course you didn't. It's chocolate covered edamame for God's sake. Who the fuck would want to eat that?"

I hope that someday we can be friends again, but for now, I think it'sbest if we just stop seeing each other. I just can't risk being hurtlike this again.

Sincerely,
Janet

A Christmas Miracle!

2007-12-24T19:51:00.000-08:00

This is the post I never thought I'd write. But today, a mere five months after I started, Ritu and I finished taking down the wallpaper in the office. Not only that, we got the excess glue washed off of the walls and the room emptied out. Now we just need to spackle, prime, and paint. (Oh, and have the carpet ripped out and wood floors installed. And assemble the desk we bought at Ikea six weeks ago which has been in boxes in my living room ever since.) But this is progress, people, and I have pictures to prove it!

More Proud Moments

2007-12-23T14:25:00.000-08:00

Do you remember when I managed to do this with the kitchen sink? Today I did it again, but in a monumental twist that I couldn't possibly have managed had I tried to choreograph it, David happened to be walking behind me at the precise moment I accidentally activated the sprayer. Although the inside of my sleeve captured the brunt of the water, he still managed to get a face full. He was amazingly good natured about the whole thing, but I'm sure it will factor into his nursing home decision one day.

In other news, yesterday my mother tried to put on her cat as a sock. And I quote:

Today, I was sitting on my bed, watching TV while getting dressed. Iput on one black sock, and seeing the other sort of behind me on thebed, I grabbed it to put it on. Only it wasn't my sock; it was poorLucy, who jumped off one side of the bed while I jumped off the other. I don't know which of us was more startled. <sigh>

I'm starting to think that neither of us should be living unsupervised.

This Must Be A Sign Of The Apocalypse

2007-12-20T21:06:00.000-08:00

I actually laughed at Ziggy yesterday.

"Along With Some Cool Girls From My High School"

2007-12-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

Since I have nothing to say, you might as well go read this hilarious entry from Alice over at Finslippy.

And while you're cruising around, check out this youtube video that Amy posted at The Foil Hat. Brilliant!

Dooce And Chuck Have Nothing On Me And Emma

2007-12-06T22:13:00.000-08:00

I crack myself up.

Viola Pictures

2007-12-06T22:05:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to post this for awhile. Here you see David, proudly wearing his replacement nameband which a lady from an independent toy store about 50 miles away ever-so-kindly mailed to me.

My old friend Sarah (you know her as the commenter SarahThinksJanet) just sent me a link to an ebay auction for more of the David namebands. I politely thanked her and told her I'd gotten a new one, then quickly realized the value in having a spare and hit the buy it now button. Thanks, Sarah!

I took that picture the night of David's first viola "concert". He has taken to this viola like nothing I've ever seen before. I never have to bug him about practicing and four days a week he gets out of bed without complaint an hour early to go to his before school lesson. Last month we had people over for dinner and he actually offered to play his viola for them. I think back to all the times my mother begged me and my sister to just play a little something for our relatives on our flute and clarinet, respectively, and it blows my mind that he is so motivated with this viola. Not only that, in his music class in school they are doing a unit with recorders and he is teaching himself to play songs. I am blown away by the amount of initiative he's showing and the overwhelming pride and satisfaction he takes from it.

He even let me take a bunch of pictures and if you know David, you know how unusual that is:

Livin La Vida Locavore

2007-12-03T13:02:00.000-08:00

When I get done with this topic, I'm sure you'll all be begging me for the excitement of guinea pig reports, but here goes. I'm working on becoming a locavore (said my friend: What? A local whore?). After reading Omnivore's Dilemma and getting halfway through Animal, Vegetable, Miracle I am convinced that choosing locally grown and made products can make a difference. Now, Ritu and I aren't entirely new to this. For three summers we have bought into an organic produce CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). Each Saturday from May to October we pick up a bin of organic fruits and vegetables from our farmer's market. My mindset thus far was to see what we liked out of the bin and make use of it as I could. Often, though, things would go bad before I had a chance to use them. I always saw those vegetables as supplementary to my regular grocery shopping, but this next year I am going to try and make them the centerpiece.

I was especially taken with the point Barbara Kingsolver made about how just because we CAN get every kind of produce all year round doesn't mean we SHOULD. When you consider the preservatives added and fuel used to get my fresh asparagus from New Zealand in the middle of winter, it suddenly becomes a lot less appealing. Actually, the first locavore choice I made was a choice of omission. I was at Costco the other day and they had bags of those sweet mini peppers that, it turns out, come from Mexico. I picked them up, studied the package, and put them back. (Don't tell Emma. Those are her absolute favorite.)

I am fortunate to live in the Pacific Northwest where this movement has taken a firm root and we have a nice long growing season and a number of local companies like Bob's Red Mill, Tillamook Cheese, Alpenrose Dairy, and most importantly, Dagoba Chocolate. I started to do some research and read some web sites, but let's face it, I am a lazy, spoiled American with disposable income and I just wanted to be told what to buy. Voila! Turns out New Seasons Market has a program called Home Grown. On all the shelves and displays you can look for a tag that lets you know if a product comes from Washington, Oregon, or Northern California. (Granted, it's a far cry from growing all my own food, but it's a step in the right direction.)

I don't usually shop at New Seasons because I thought it was pretentious and overpriced and I had a run in with a wine steward there recently which reinforced all of that. But I headed out there yesterday afternoon in a driving wind and rainstorm to browse and read labels and see what I could find.

On my list, I needed ingredients for soup. The first night of Chanukah this year falls on a Tuesday. On Tuesdays we try to follow the tradition of Ritu's family and eat vegetarian. We decided to have soup and potato latkes. So, vegetarian soup and, because my mom was coming to dinner, nothing cream based. Oh, and nothing too vegetably because the kids wouldn't go near it. That left a lot of potato and corn chowders which just weren't going to fly with a big plate of latkes. I finally found the perfect choice. What else would a good Hinjew family eat for Chanukah? Miso soup, of course!

At New Seasons I found the tofu and miso paste with no problems, but I got hung up looking for doshi. I circled the store about three times because I absolutely hate asking for help (yes, I am well aware that I have issues). Finally, I approached a nice young cheerful looking fellow. I confessed that I didn't even know what doshi was but that I needed it for miso soup. He was stumped as well, but went to his encyclopedia of food and looked it up. He found me something labeled as Dulse which he felt would be the closest thing. I thanked him and added it to my cart and headed for the check out. I left the store and was ditching my cart outside the doors when I noticed a flurry of activity behind me. It was my little New Seasons best friend who had come out into the ran to look for me because he had found another product he thought would work even better. I have to say that my cynical heart was thawed the tiniest bit by all of this. I will definitely be going back there to do more shopping.

Now I'm off to make a white chocolate cream pie for tomorrow's dessert to make up for the fact that the miso soup will probably suck.

A Few More Travel Observations

2007-11-29T12:16:00.000-08:00

You'll be glad to know that I maintained my lengthy streak of hitting my head on the "overhead" (embedded in head?) compartment on the flight home. This time, instead of standing up directly under it, I somehow managed to whack the side of my head against it.

********

On the flight home, Juliana finished her book. I watched to see if she would need some help from me to choose her next activity, but she closed up the book, announced "Ok, now I'm going to do my thinking", propped her chin on her fist, and stared off into middle distance for a nice long while.

********

Who are these people who order tomato juice on airplanes? Do you know anyone who drinks tomato juice in real life? Why, on planes, does it suddenly become the drink of choice? I have such an irrational hatred for these people that even I am baffled by it.

There's only one way to drink tomato juice. First off, it has to be V-8. Secondly, it needs to be poured from its original container into a glass jar. Then it has to sit in the refrigerator until thoroughly chilled. Then you have to spend all day at the beach. Then you can enjoy a nice big glass. I'm not being unreasonable here; it's just that there is a process that needs to be followed. Oh, and did I mention that the refrigerator needs to reside in my grandparents' apartment in Florida? And that it needs to be somewhere around 1978? Is that so hard to do?

I've tried drinking V-8 other times and other ways and it doesn't work. When I was pregnant with David and all vegetables disgusted me, I thought V-8 was the answer. Nope, couldn't even gag down one glass of that viscous nastiness. And don't tell me that what I need to do is drink a Bloody Mary. Christ, how can you drink anything with "Bloody" right in the name? Not to mention TOMATO JUICE. I feel a little queasy even staying on this subject for so long.

Look, if you're thirsty on a plane, drink something cold and quenching. Likea soda. Like normal people do. Tomato juice is just going to make youthirstier. Plus, it's made from squished up TOMATOES. Why the hell would you drink that? Andfor God's sake, when it inevitably spills on your lap, you are going tolook like a crime scene exhibit. Also, I secretly pray for turbulence when I see people drinking tomato juice on a plane. Wouldn't it be better for you to have a nice glass of orange juice? Look what you get in return: A healthy dose of vitamin C and the added bonus of helping me in my quest to become a better person.

Canada Wet

2007-11-25T14:31:00.000-08:00

The good news is that I didn't trip and/or fall in any airports on our way home yesterday. No, I decided to go with my second favorite air travel activity which is liquid related. Just as walking with Juliana carries a certain risk, so does sitting next to her on a plane. Unless you observe constant vigilance, there is going to be some mopping up in your future. Before the drink cart even came around, we'd determined that she had a faulty tray table. It wouldn't return to it's upright and locked position without a huge amount of force (something the woman sitting in front of Juliana was thrilled to discover) so I told Juliana that we would share mine. I was secretly pleased by this turn of events because it allowed me to micromanage her drink with minimal fuss. She chose Ginger Ale which sounded so good that I decided to have some as well. Also, that way we could share one can between us which limited the amount of time we engaged in the drinking portion of the flight. I poured us each some ginger ale and let me tell you, it was as crisp and refreshing as could be. I kept her drink level fairly low but she didn't question me. I felt good enough about the process to go back to my New Yorker. What I had overlooked was the fact that my tray table had its own fault. Unbeknownst to me, it was more of a ramp than a platform and my drink (which was fuller and thus heavier) slowly slid down the surface and tipped over into my lap. You can imagine how graceful I was as I tried to scoop ice out of body crevices all the while being strapped to my seat and wedged in by the tray table. I got up and went to the bathroom to try and dry off. I went back to my seat and reported that it looked like I had peed my pants. Juliana cracked up. I mock-glared at her and pointed out that I didn't think it was too funny. She responded with, "But Mommy, bathroom things just always seem funny. Haven't you ever noticed that?"

Thanksgiving This And That

2007-11-20T16:41:00.000-08:00

Look at me blogging at you from Detroit! We're here visiting my in-laws and the trip was nice and uneventful. Well, except for in the Detroit airport when I stepped onto the moving walkway and turned to say something to Ritu at the same time. Much teetering and windmilling of arms ensued, but I managed to stay on my feet. Let's face it, I should just be banned from airports .

**********

David seems to be inventing his own slang. This morning he looked at the clock and exclaimed, "Oh my Snappalachian State, it's 6 AM!" What is he, somebody's gay hillbilly grandpa?

**********

We've been reading All of A Kind Family which features a Jewish family living on the East Side of New York City in the early 1900s. I read them when I was a girl and the kids have enjoyed them. Juliana, in particular, is delighted by any mention of Judaism in books or movies, so this has simply captivated her. The all-of-a-kind part refers to the fact that there are five sisters in the book....Ella, Henny, Sarah, Charlotte, and Gertie. The kids can remember that Henny is a nickname (I really wanted to use the word "soubriquet" there. Pretentious, much?) for Henrietta, but they keep having a mental block about what Gertie is short for. David asked me, "What is it again? Gertaline?"

**********

Yesterday my friend and I were at Border's choosing things to sell at our synagogue's Chanukah fair. Border's lets us buy things at a discount, sell them for list price and keep the profit. We go through the entire store and select a collection of books and gift items with a Jewish slant. This includes Jewish cookbooks, fiction by Jewish authors, kids stuff and pretty much anything that we think might appeal to our members. As we go through the store, Border's employees offer to help us, but they are often stumped at the entire concept of Jewishness. Here is an actual exchange I had with a Border's employee when she saw I had this book:

Border's Employee: Is that a humor book?

Me: Yes.

Border's Employee: Oh. Because I didn't think that George and Laura were Jewish.

Me (speaking slowly): Yeah, see, that's what makes it funny.

Hot Pockets

2007-11-12T21:37:00.000-08:00

I know I promised pictures of the kids from Halloween, but hey, I alsopromised to be a reliable blogger. So far I am 0/2. Let's just moveon, shall we?

One of the things that has most impressed David about being in 5thgrade is that his classroom is in possession of a real live microwave. And not only do they have a microwave, they are allowed to use it atlunchtime. This, apparently, ranks right up there with a Nintendo Wiias the coolest thing ever.

Now, David is my child who eats next to nothing. For years, every dayfor lunch I packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Maybe onceevery six weeks I could throw in a bagel and cream cheese withoutupsetting the delicate balance. (Once I tried giving him a cheesesandwich and when I asked him how he liked it, I was told, "Mom, don'tyou EVER do that again!") This summer David discovered the heavenlygoodness that is Nutella. Sure, it's tantamount to giving him achocolate sandwich, but it has some protein and fiber and, mostimportantly, it's not peanut butter and jelly.

This fall, David began talking about Hot Pockets. In return, I ignoredhim. The Hot Pockets talk continued. Did I not understand how cool itwas to be able to take a Hot Pocket to school and wait your turn forthe microwave? It's so rare that he wants tointroduce any new food, that I finally relented. And bless his littleheart, he knows his culinary limits and he told me he'd besttry the first one at home to see if he even liked it. He asked for theFour Cheese kind since he was sure any of the other ones would be toospicy. The day I brought them home, he tried one and deemed itdelicious. On the one hand, I was happy he had tried something new. On the other hand, a Hot Pocket? Are you kidding me?

I let my kids choose hot lunch at school once a week. Juliana will atleast get a salad or carrots along with her entree, but David eatsnothing in the way of fruits and vegetables except apples and theoccasional grape (under duress). According to him, all the apples atschool are "rotten". (Also, according to him, this one kid knew a kid who dropped his hot dog and it was so rubbery that itbounced back up and hit him in the eye. If you could see howsincerely he tells this story, you would die from cuteness.)

I debatedwith David for awhile over whether or not a Hot Pocket would count ashis hot lunch for the week. As much as he wanted the Hot Pocket, hewasn't quite willing to give up the pizza or nachos in return. Finally I had a rare stroke of Parenting Genius. I told him that if hewanted to have a Hot Pocket and a school hot lunch each week, he wouldneed to introduce a new fruit or vegetable into his repertoire. Heimmediately got up from where he was sitting, marched to therefrigerator, took out a baby carrot and put it in his mouth. Iwatched in stunned amazement. I could not have been more surprised hadhe opened fire with a shotgun. He chewed twice, gagged, and spit thecarrot back out. So much for that breakthrough.

Eventually he agreed to eat bananas. He also said yes to oranges. Theother night at dinner when I put apple slices, an orange wedge, and afew circles of banana on his plate was one of the most satisfyingmoments of motherhood. And all thanks to Hot Pockets.

And here, for your enjoyment is Jim Gaffigan's routine all about Hot Pockets.

Guinea Pigs Are Cuter Than Kids

2007-10-31T19:24:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween!! No pictures of the kids in their costumes yet, but here's one of Spots frolicking in the pumpkins.

(By the way, has there ever been a more gloriously unnecessary feature than Snapfish's Red Eye Before/After button? Nothing funnier than clicking it and watching your loved one's eyes intermittently glow red. It's more like a Before/After the Exorcism button.)

It's been just about a year since we became guinea pig owners (I KNOW. I can't believe we've kept them alive this long either.) and we debated long and hard on how to best celebrate. We finally came up with the perfect solution. Usually, the bedding in their cage is a mixture of aspen and paper litter. We toss handfuls of Timothy hay in there every day as it is key for their little digestive process. In general, the cage looks like this.

To mark this special occasion, we decided to fill their entire cage with Timothy hay. It would sort of be like you filling your entire bedroom waist deep in peanut M&Ms.

Here's Spots in the hay.

Such a camera whore, that one. We'll have to add that to her list of nicknames. (Which include: Spotty, Potty, Spotster, Spaz, Spazzy, Spottykins, Spotarama, Pottykins, Spotty Pig, and The Pig Who Does The Spot Trot.)

They loved the hay. They climbed all around, then burrowed into it. Eventually they even made a little tunnel. Here's Spots, cleverly camouflaged.

Is that cute or what? Here's her little Spotster Bum sticking out of the hay.

And check out how good Emma (aka Emmers, Emma-coo, Emma-cootiepie, Emmykins, Hem-Hem, Fatty-coo, Fatty Pig, Fatty Fat Fat, Tiny Bison, Sweet-Tooth Pig, Chubby Pig, Chocolate Bar) looks! Not tilty at all!

This Should've Been A Much Cuter Post

2007-10-29T14:59:00.000-07:00

Thursday night we went to our school's Halloween Carnival. Juliana won a round of the Cake Walk which meant that she got to choose from a selection of store-bought cakes. (For health reasons we aren't allowed to bring in homemade baked goods to the school.) She chose for her prize a small 4-inch cake frosted in the brightest of green and decorated to look like Frankenstein. She was so proud that she cradled that cake in her arms all around the carnival for the next hour. I didn't have my camera with me that night, so I made sure to take pictures of her eating it the next day. Her friend Shannon had spent the night so we all dug in for a mid-morning snack. (You can see David pouting in the background as he hadn't finished cleaning the guinea pig cage.)

As she'd been so cute carrying it around the night before, I tried to re-create that missed photo opportunity by having her hold it with the uncut side facing out. Cleverly, I neglected to ensure that the dome was attached tightly to the cake plate.

But no worries here! We just turned the upside down dome into a bowl and ate it like that!

Much face-scrubbing and tooth-brushing followed.

For lunch that day, we'd been invited to a birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese type place. Juliana ate three slices of pizza, drank two glasses of root beer and had a piece of birthday cake. After lunch she told me that she felt cold, but quickly decided to go on a little ride called The Frog Jumper. After that she just wanted to sit on my lap for awhile. She perked up and ventured into the play structure, but soon came flying out asking me to take her to the bathroom. She went up the stairs like a shot and by the time I followed her into the bathroom, she was already in a stall. I called in to see how she was doing and she burst into sobs saying, "I think I have diarrhea and it's.....it's.....it's.....GREEN!"

In retrospect, I learned that perhaps filling my child full of crap then letting her ride anything with "Jumper" in the name isn't the best idea. (And yes, I am QUITE aware that it all could've come out the other end and been a lot worse.)

Even more importantly I learned that despite spending a number of hours in her digestive tract, that green frosting didn't lose even the slightest bit of intensity. God knows you can't get that same sort of craftsmanship from something home-made.

Speaking of Rain

2007-10-26T10:34:00.000-07:00

If you listen to any sort of mainstream radio, you've probably heardthe Rihanna song Umbrella. I don't mind Rihanna (they play a lot ofher songs on Radio Disney--which reminds me--nobody Named That Tune onmy birthday post!) but Umbrella was always just a big whatever to me.Here's a link to it.

Then one of our local radio stations started playing an acousticversion of it by Marie Digby that showed up on her Myspace page andthen Youtube. (Yes, I know it was a little controversial becausepeople thought she was an unknown and she turned out to be an unknownwith a recording contract.)Here's a link to her video. I can't even tell you how much I love this version of the song.

A Vote For Basketball

2007-10-21T17:11:00.000-07:00

Last week, every meteorologist in the state putthe fear of God into us by forecasting a horrendous wind and rain stormfor Thursday. All day long people talked about nothing but the impending storm. We took in our patio umbrella and I made sure to have batteries for theflashlights. The forecasters kept pushing back the start time of thestorm. Juliana's coach (aka Ritu) canceled soccer practice inanticipation of nasty conditions. What we finally ended up getting wasa big fat lot of nothing. It rained, sure, and it was a bit breezy,but really there was nothing to write home about. I mention thisbecause our forecasters have reached a new level of misinformation thisfall and I've pretty much given up on believing the weather. (For the record, the newspaper on Saturday forecasted "Spotty Showers".)

Saturdaymorning my alarm went off at 6:30 and I woke to thesound of torrential rainfall. David had an early game andRitu was working all weekend so Juliana and I were on soccer duty. We loaded into the van around 7:45. I found myself pulling my glassesout of my purse. Those would be the glasses I use for night driving. The rain was still falling hard and the temperature read 44 degrees. Puddles of water covered the highway and traffic moved slowly. Thegame was at a field we hadn't traveled to before and I busied myselfwith finding the way. I warned David that Juliana and I might stay inthe van and watch from there, but it turned out the parking lot wasdown the hill from the actual field, so that idea had to be discarded.

The team warms up for 45 minutes before the game starts. The rain wascoming down even harder, so I sent David up the hill to the field armedwith his backpack and an umbrella. Juliana and I stayed in the van for20 minutes or so, but the rain started to ease and I needed a bathroom,so we set out to walk around a bit. Juliana enjoyed watching therainwater course down the sidewalk like a river. She pranced around withher umbrella and informed me that Winnie the Pooh can turn an umbrellaupside down and sail in it like a boat.

Now, we are no strangers to rain. Soccer games are not canceled foranything other than lightning. David has been playing since he was 4years old. I've been standing out in the rain since he was four yearsold. There is a Rain Hierarchy for parent spectators. Basic Rainmeans you wear your jacket that has a hood. People around here don'tbother much with umbrellas because there is no sense in tying up onehand with umbrella-holding 8 months out of the year. A decent rainjacket with a hood is a must. On days with Heavy Rain, you wear yourjacket with a hood and you don't bother setting up your foldablechair. Sitting in that sort of rain will just make you wetter thanstanding in it. On days with Nasty Rain, you add in the umbrellabecause the wind is going to blow the rain in your face despite yourhood. This seemed to qualify as Nasty Rain so I didn't bother with mychair and Juliana and I were both armed with umbrellas. The one savinggrace of this game was that the soccer field was made of artificial turf. Ifnothing else, it wouldn't be muddy. The game started. The raincontinued. The wind picked up. Our spectators huddled together andcheered on the boys. A few of the moms came around looking to see whohad towels or blankets in their cars to help with keeping the boys onthe bench dry. I had one of each that I happily donated to the cause. Beneath our team's portable canopy, the boys sat close together with ablanket over their laps and another one draped across their shoulders.

Juliana was still having fun at this point. She abandoned her umbrellaand turned her face to the sky. We marveled at one of the boys whoseusual mop of curls was completely straight from the saturation. Welaughed at a lost squirrel who, clearly confused, ran across the turffield in the middle of the game. As the rain started to dampen myspirits (HA, see what I did there?), I mused out loud about thepositive attributes of basketball. Namely the fact that it's playedindoors. Andnever one to suffer silently, I whined "Why did we moveto Oregon?" Another mom try to soothe things by pointing out howbeautiful it is here. I remarked that her cup was always half full. Mine was half full, too. Of RAINWATER.

Midway through the first half, the wind and rain picked up again. Myumbrella blew inside out and a nice dad from the other team helped meto fix it. Juliana was getting cold and crabby and I hugged her tokeep her warm. She started asking to go to the van, but the parkinglot was too far from the field for me to leave her there alone. Iguess I could've gone with her, but I wanted to watch the game. Plus,it didn't seem right that David should be out there while I lounged inthe heated van. At halftime, she and I went to the van for a break andshe requested the chair to sit in. I had an extra sweatshirt in thevan, so I set her up in the chair, under a tree, with the sweatshirtlike a blanket and her umbrella over her.

The rain continued to come down in buckets. My pants were soaked fromthe knee down and, in a handy physics lesson, they flattened againstmy legs creating a perfect gutter system for delivering water into myshoes. The canopy protecting the players kept threatening to blowover. With each gust of wind, water that had collected on the canopytop drained off in gushes. I noticed that David was standing awfullyclose to the kid he was guarding. I'm not sure if it was to block thewind or steal some of his body heat. With about five minutes left, theother team broke the scoreless tie with a goal. The soccer was starting to look awfully ineffectiveas the boys got colder and stiffer. Our coach had the moms who werehelping under the canopy start packing up all the boys' backpacks andshe sent another parent to tell us to start warming up our cars. Itook Juliana down to the van to at least be out of the wind and rainwhile I headed back up to retrieve David, his backpack, my blanket,towel, and umbrella. The boys came off the field shivering and with teethchattering. A few of them, bless their hearts, were crying.

I hustled David down the hill and into the van. I covered him andJuliana with the blanket. I cranked the heat up to high and got thehell out of there. By this time Juliana was sobbing because she was socold and wet. It was 10:30 when we got home and I saw that there was amessage on my voice mail. I prayed that it was a phone call telling meJuliana's game was canceled. Instead it was my mom saying, "If thosechildren are out playing soccer in this weather, I am going to callProtective Services." I sent Juliana up to put on dry clothes andhelped peel David out of his uniform and shin guards. He was stillshivering and starting to get teary eyed. I had him get in the showerand told him he could stay there as long as he wanted. He started thewater but kept standing there adjusting it saying it felt too hot evenwhen he had it turned to cold. I realized he was checking it with hisfrozen hands. I helped him turn the heat back up and told him to checkit with a different part of his body.

Juliana and I got into dry clothes and climbed into my bed. I returnedmy mom's phone call and called Ritu at work to let him know there was agood chance we'd be blowing off Juliana's game. Seeing as he's thecoach, he sounded dubious that I would be setting this poor example forthe rest of the team. I kept explaining how it had been at David'sgame but he'd been inside at work and couldn't appreciate the misery ofit.

By this time 30 minutes had gone by and David was still in the shower. He finally came out and I knew he was feeling better when he remarked"I think your teeth chatter when you're cold because your body istrying to make a spark come out of your mouth to set you on fire andwarm you up."

Now it was after 11:00.. Juliana had to be at her game at noon. Icalled my friend who was coaching in Ritu's absence and told him we wouldn't be there. The weather was clearing up at this point, but noway was I dragging everybody back out. Ritu calledback around noon and sounded a little disappointed that we weren't at thegame. I had zero guilt over it, but I really wanted him to understandhow bad it had been. We finished our conversation, then I immediatelycalled him back. "Maybe this will help you understand", I said. "Onthe way home from the game, David told me that if it was like this forhis game tomorrow, he would rather go to Sunday School."

Except For The Fact It Was My Birthday. My Stupid Birthday.

2007-10-18T15:07:00.000-07:00

First of all....Name that tune!

So. Tuesday was my birthday. I love love LOVE my birthday. My friend Elizabethdescribes it perfectly when she says birthdaysalways feel like special, sparkly days. I think everyone should love my birthday as much as I do. To that end, I helpfully use my birthday in myemail address for Maximum Rememberability. Starting in July I frequently announce, "It's almost my birthday!" People smile at me as the warm summer breeze wafts over us. "Really? When?" "October 16th." The smiles tend to turn to blank stares.

Usually Ritu will keep his schedule pretty light on mybirthday so that we can go out to lunch or dinner or something but thefederal government decided to schedule a large-scale disaster drillhere ON MY BIRTHDAY. The nerve. So he was gone by 6:30 AM. As it wasa Tuesday, I got David up early to catch the bus thattakes him to his viola class. (I asked him if there was anythingspecial he wanted to say to me and he responded with, "You're old?" I can't imagine where the child gets that snark.) Juliana woke up early and came down before David had even left. Shesang Happy Birthday numerous times and presented me with a collection ofher old bracelets and a tube of purple lipstick. So far so good!

At 7:30 AM the phone rang. It was my mother. An unusual time forher to call, but hey, it was her favorite child's birthday! Instead ofbirthday greetings, she told me she was having vertigo. Shedescribed lying in bed, coughing, and suddenly feelinglike a chicken on a rotisserie spinning 360 degrees. Seeing as she had plans to fly to California to take care of my sister's children for a few days, this was especially bad timing. Her flight didn't leave until late afternoon soI suggested she take some anti-vertigo medicine, get back in bed andgive it a chance to work. I told her I'd call my sister to put her onalert and I'd call back in a bit to check on her.

Juliana and I continued to get ready for school. At 8:10 thephone rang again. It was my neighbor. Only when I answered the phone,it wasn't my neighbor. It was David. "Mom, the bus never showed up." Viola class starts at 7:45. My clever child had stood out there fornearly 45 minutes. I told him to come home and I promptly called thebus company. They told me a train had delayed the buses that morning. I explained that it wasn't late, it never came at all. The nice woman said"Oh." David came home and I suggested he spend some of his extra timelooking for his watch.

At 8:30 the phone rang again. I was gathering laundrytogether and I yelled for one of the kids to answer the phone. Theystood around reading off the Caller I.D. as I yelled JUST ANSWER IT! Needless to say, between the two of them (each standing by a differenthandset) they were unable to answer the phone before it went to voicemail. This is a personal pet peeve. They know that if they don't knowwho it is or aren't sure, they can just hustle the unanswered phone tome. Instead they feel the need to engage in some sort of existentialreflection over what it means to answer the phone. My frustrationlevel hit red and, in my proudest parenting moment of 2007, I announcedto my children that they were Phone-Answering Retards. <sigh> That one is not going to look good on my permanent record.

I retrieved that phone message and then gave my mom a quickcall to check on her. She said that just reaching over to answer thephone made her have a wave of vertigo and her voice sounded thick withnausea. Not good.

I finally got the kids off to school and went on my morningwalk to help stamp some of the frustration out of my soul. Two friendswere planning to take me to lunch and another friend had baked me acake and a group of us were going to have cake and coffee after lunch. I called my mom after my walk, but there was no answer. I left her amessage saying I was going to shower and please call me back as soon asshe could. The phone rang during my shower, but it wasn't her. Idecided to call my sister to see if she'd heard from Mom. I dialed andinstead of hearing it ring, I heard the sound of dialing. It was mysister calling me at the exact same time to say that she'd been calling Mombut there was no answer. She decided to try one more time, thencalled me back to say there was still no answer. I told her I'd headover to Mom's apartment and see what was going on.

I consciously chose comfy clothes because I figured there was a goodchance I'd be spending the rest of the day playing nursemaid either ather house or, God forbid, the hospital. I grabbed a sweatshirt andhopped in the van. I called my friend to tell her I would have to bailon our lunch plans. I drove quickly but carefully. I thought back toall the times we went through this with my grandmother. A number ofphone calls would go unanswered and the grandchildren would draw strawsto see whose turn it was to go check for dead bodies. She was alwaysfound alive and well but without her hearing aids or with the operaturned up full blast.

The closer I got, the more my mind started to let in ugly thoughts. Vertigo....nausea....ok, could be she's just too dizzy to deal with thephone. A block later I contemplated the possibility of finding hercrumpled in a heap at the bottom of the steps. Another stretch ofdriving brought with it the possibility of aspirated vomit. Now I wasgetting scared AND pissed. How dare she die on MY birthday! What kindof legacy was that?

I pulled into her complex and parked. On the way to her front door, I noticed something. Her. car. was. gone. I stood in the rainand whipped out my phone. She answered her cell. I calmly asked whereshe was. She replied that she'd felt a bit better so she'd gone to work. I--how shall we put it?--flipped. I said, "Are you fucking kidding me?? Icame to your house to scoop your dead body off the floor because thelast time I talked to you, you were too sick to deal with answering thephone. Nobody has been able to reach you for the past hour. Did it occur to you to call and tell somebody you were feeling betterand would be leaving the house?" I continued in this vein for awhile becausealso? Driving with vertigo? Not a good idea. She apologizedprofusely. I offered to come pick herup, but she protested that she was fine and promised to call mewhen she got home.

(For those of you keeping count at home, this was the third phone callI'd had with her. Still no acknowledgment of my birthday. And me, her favorite child!)

I called my friend to put lunch BACK ON. I drove home to change out ofmy sweats and make myself presentable. My mom called to say she'd madeit home. I praised her responsible communication and told her I washeading out to lunch but that she could reach me on my cell allafternoon. Horror filled her voice as it dawned on her. "Oh my God. Happy Birthday! I am the worst mother ever!" I gently suggested thatmaybe, just MAYBE, her vertigo was God's punishment for forgetting mybirthday. I like to be helpful that way.

The bad news is that she's still sick and had to cancel the entire tripto California. The good news is that the glass of Pinot Gris I had atlunch was delicious.

Looking For a Hinjew

2007-10-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Heh, look what I found!

Found The Charger

2007-10-15T14:59:00.000-07:00

Today I was determined to find that damn camera charger so that I could document this miserable room. I grabbed the trash can and recycling bin and tore through the mess like a crazy person. In about 15 minutes the place looked a lot less like a hazardous waste dump and, as I was replacing some Scotch tape in a drawer, I found the camera charger tucked away nice as could be. So now the camera is charged but the mess is no longer worthy of documenting. I'm sure there's a lesson there somewhere.

But because I promised, here are some pictures. First we have the last bit of wallpaper above the windows.

Next is the tangle of wires that I trip over daily:

Here is our lovely and fashionable card table desk. We sold our old desk at a yard sale in May thinking that would hasten the process of getting a new one. Did I mention that was in May?

Aaaaaand the last bit of wallpaper around the bookshelves. That's all there is left to do and it's still not done. Seriously, what is wrong with me? (Please note that is a rhetorical question.)

Hell

2007-10-10T12:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am fully aware of my lack of blogging. My main reason is that the office, where the computer is, looks like a portal to hell. The wall paper which I started removing in August still isn't completely off and the room has become a trash despository for the rest of the house. I hate even coming into this room and it doesn't help that most times as I walk to the computer, I trip over the tangle of wires and knock the DSL out of commission. I thought I would take a few pictures to illustrate the horror but when I picked up the camera, the battery was dead and for the life of me, I can't find the charger in this roomful of misery.

So all you get is my completely un-illustrated whining. Along with my sincerest apologies. If it's any consolation, I've written about a half dozen posts in my head....

Here's hoping for a big rush of motivation to finish the wallpaper removal as I think that will serve as a catalyst for the rest of the room. Either that or a big can of accelerant and a butane torch.

Conferences

2007-10-03T13:24:00.000-07:00

Last week we had our first parent-teacher conferences of the new schoolyear. Juliana's teacher raved about her, which surprised exactly noone. She is the type of child who is a perfect match for publicschool: smart, enthusiastic, a hard worker, and fun to have around. Sheis excelling in every area, despite her small tendency towards mathanxiety. Her glowing conferences are remarkably different from ourexperiences with David at this age. While his teachers always commented on how much they enjoyed havinghim in class, we were treated to a list of things with which hestruggled. Like his abysmal handwriting. (Which he gets directly fromme. Sorry, kid!) And the fact that he couldn't do timed math tests.

For the first four years of school, David was distinctly in the middleof the pack for everything. It wasn't until 4th grade that he cameinto his own. That was when his high scores and class performance ledhis teacher to recommend him for the gifted program, which hesuccessfully tested into (into which he successfully tested?). He had a strong academic year and became aclass leader. The icing on the cake came last May when he scored aspot on the competitive soccer squad. His teacher for the past twoyears was a lovely older woman with extensive teaching experience. She was a great mixture ofstrictness and warmth which helped David rise to the expectations shehad for him.

Cut to this year. His teacher is a young woman, newlymarried, with a baby at home. She coaches volleyball at the highschool and is as enthusiastic as the day is long. She clearly enjoysthe 5th and 6th graders and she is funny and encouraging and Davidadores her. Our conference started with her telling us that "David isan absolute joy." I am not exaggerating when I say that EVERY teacherhe has ever had has used those exact words to describe him. She talkedabout how he is smart and confident and participates in class. She observed that he really seems to be keeping on top of his work andmanaging his responsibilities. I was thrilled to hear all this, nodoubt. But nothing compared to the warmth I felt in my soul when sheremarked on his great sense of humor and his ability to understandsarcasm. She said sometimes she'll throw a comment out there and onlyto be met with dead silence from the class.....

....and then she'll hear Davidgiggling in the corner.

This And That

2007-10-01T19:57:00.000-07:00

I was at Target today looking for Halloween decorations for my yard when I noticed that nearly every item I picked up had the following warning on the back:

Prop 65 Warning: This product contains lead, achemical known to the State of California to cause cancer, birthdefects, and other reproductive harm. Wash hands after handling.

Uh, yeah. Happy Halloween! The best I could figure was that it applied to decorations with electrical wiring coated for outdoor use. But, see, once I'm given a warning like that I either develop OCD and have to wrap myself in Saran Wrap before I can touch it OR I have the opposite inclination and find myself strangely compelled to floss with the lead-caked cord. (Possibly these are two ends of the same spectrum.) Needless to say, in the interest of safety, I didn't buy anything.

**********
I hate when Igoogle to see if Spots and Emma can safely have a certain type of freshvegetable and instead of getting a list of Guinea Pig Approved Foods, Iget something like this or this.

**********
Overheard today at Target:

Manager(talking to female employee): Now do you understand that before youcan clean the bathroom you have to make sure ALL the men are out first?

**********
Hey, my cousin is in a music video!! He's the shirtless guy at the bar.

I'll Try Again Next Year

2007-09-24T11:05:00.000-07:00

Do you think I am effectively cleansing my soul on Yom Kippur when I spend much of the day distracted by the need to send this ecard to some guy sitting a few rows behind me?

Getting Closer

2007-09-24T10:59:00.000-07:00

Thank you to everyone who has helped with the wristband search! I've finally gotten a lead. I have to give credit to Robyne who didn't find the exact one, but sent me a link for a type of bracelet called namelets which eventually led me to google "namebands" which got me to the manufacturer (History and Heraldry) which led me to this site where I can buy an complete floor display containing 256 names. But the only place I can find to buy an individual band online is this British ebay seller. So, I emailed the company headquarters to see if they could tell me of a store in my area that carries the display. I had an email first thing this morning from a lovely woman named Abby who didn't have anything here but told me to send her more cities and zip codes, so now I'm having her check the entire states of Oregon and Washington.

In the meantime, if any of you go to a gift type store and see one of these displays, pick me up one with David's name on it and I will happy reimburse you!

This Kid Makes Me Laugh

2007-09-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

This morning David woke up early and, as rarely happens any more, he came into my room to snuggle for a bit. But since he's a 10 year old boy, there were not going to be any outward terms of endearment, so here's the conversation we had.

"Mom, can I give you a bruise?"

"Only if I can break one of your bones."

"You couldn't break my bones. You aren't strong enough."

"I could decapitate you with my bare hands."

<giggling> "But you don't have bear hands. You have human hands."

While I'm Soliciting Help

2007-09-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

When I went to Seattle in May, I brought David back one of those rubber bracelets, like a Livestrong bracelet but this one had his name already on it and a bunch of words like "loyal" "respect" "smart" and things like that. It was a green camouflage color and he wore it every single day since I got it for him. Last Friday, we were at an ice cream social at the school and when we were leaving, he realized he had lost it. He was heartbroken (we're talking actual tears) and he and Ritu went back to look for it, but it was dark and he'd been playing down on the great big grass field. Did I mention it was a green camouflage color?

Sooooo, I've been trying to find another one. I've googled every word combination I could think of. I've found a zillion sites when you can customize bracelets, but none that are pre-printed like his. You know how you see displays of pencils or keychains with common names printed on them? It was that sort of a display, only rubber wristbands. If anybody has some time and likes a google challenge, David and I would be forever in your debt if you could find a place to get a new one.

Help!

2007-09-11T11:20:00.000-07:00

You may scoff at my dilemma, but I need your help! Let me first set the stage for you. I have an overdeveloped respect for authority to the extent that it took a couple of years before I was able to address teachers at my kids' school by their first names. My friend gave me great advice when I was struggling with this. She said always to address a teacher as Mrs. Whatever in front of the children, but to go to a first name basis in private. I remember the first time I ever addressed a teacher by name in an email. I sat there at the computer and kept changing it to Mrs. and then back again. (Can't imagine why I never get anything done around here when I am clearly using my time and energy so wisely.) I finally made the plunge and I've been fine with it ever since.

Ok, we're almost to my dilemma, but first you need the second bit of information. In striking contrast to the blackness in my soul, I am a surprisingly perky emailer. I'll be the first to admit that I probably make use of the exclamation point more than I should, but I like to set a light, friendly tone. In fact, most of my emails to teachers start with "Hi Mary!" or whatever the teacher's name is.

Now we arrive at my current problem. David's teacher, who has a perfectly good first name, chooses instead to go by initials. Let's call her P.J. So, now when I email her, what do I do?

This looks weird to me: Hi P.J.!
This looks wrong.: Hi P.J!

Last time I went with this: Hi PJ! which looked and felt better to me except for the residual guilt that came from having edited her name.

Aside from dialing down my perkiness (not an option!!) or only speaking to her in person, what should I do?

Someecards

2007-09-08T22:03:00.000-07:00

Have you all seen these? I spent way too long today looking at them. Here are a few of my favorites: A sweet apology, a kind word of encouragement, and a workplace sentiment we can all get behind. If you don't have any friends you can send these to, then I suggest you get some new friends.

School!!!!!!!!!

2007-09-08T21:55:00.000-07:00

You may recall that on the first day of school last year, I was a mess. It was Juliana's first time being gone all day and it hit me hard. Well, I got over that. This year I counted down the days waiting for the school to open wide its glorious doors. We'd been having a great summer, but I was tired of dragging kids everywhere I went. Oh, that and the bickering. (Who knew there was only one "good" place to sit in the entire family room?) I celebrated the first week of school by going out to lunch twice and browsing leisurely in every shop just because I could. I think I got more done last Thursday than I did the entire month of August.

The kids are both off to great starts. At our school, all the 3rd and 4th grades are blended classrooms as are all the 5th and 6th grades. For David, as a fifth grader, that meant a brand new teacher after two years with the same one. Juliana also got a new teacher for second grade, but we'd had a chance for a "meet and greet" the week before school started where she got to visit her classroom, meet the teacher, find her desk and put away all her school supplies. Her entire circle of friends are in her class which made for a nice, smooth transition. She spent the first few afternoons flopping on the couch with a book when she got home, worn out from putting in a full day.

David got the teacher I was hoping for but none of his close friends ended up in his class. He spent the weekend stressing over that and when I left him the first day he was looking somewhat overwhelmed. It doesn't help that he's a wee little fifth grader and he's in there with some Amazon-type 6th grade girls. I needn't have worried, though, because the minute school let out he started telling me everything that happened that day. He talked so much that I practically relived the day in real time. His teacher was "silly and funny" and the day was "great" and his teacher has a really cute baby and the baby isn't scared of anything except for when her mom sneezes because she has really loud sneezes and when his class goes downstairs for music or P.E. they get to walk on the outside stairs and they can make noise because they aren't in the halls and they can even do that when it's raining or snowing and his teacher has a key for the outside door and HOW COOL IS THAT?

Here are some first day pictures. My camera was accidentally set to some weird setting like "Panoramas of Neptune" so the pictures aren't that great.

David tolerating my yearly ritual:

My big girl:

This is why I needed them to go back to school:

Vegas Part 3

2007-08-28T23:08:00.000-07:00

See, what's so frustrating about Vegas is how hard it is to get information. It's like they don't even want you to know what there is to do. Every event is a closely guarded secret.

Like, how will you ever find out what show is playing right there in the Venetian?

And what about comedy? Are there any comedians around?

Come on, people. Those signs are only ten stories tall. Put a little effort into your advertising, wouldya?

What's that? Wayne Brady's in town? And Phantom?? You'd sell more tickets if you just let people know .

I heard a whisper of a rumor that Toni Braxton was performing at the Flamingo.

Because I am 12 years old, I thought it would be hilarious to have the hotel room that looked right out of her crotch.

And just to prove that you can market absolutely anything, here's my favorite.

Yesirree. These people actually paid for oxygen. And not only could you buy it, you then got to partake of your purchase by sitting in a crowded food court with a plastic cannula up your nose. Good God, I hope those were single use.

Vegas Part 2

2007-08-28T21:38:00.000-07:00

Despite my making fun of the Venetian, our room was incredible. I loved how spacious it was with a whole living area a few steps down from the bedroom. In great contrast to the rest of Vegas, it was tastefully decorated in muted colors and the room felt like a soothing hide-away.

Every night they staff would turn down your bed and leave chocolate on your pillow. For ambiance, they would turn on soft music and low lighting. Do you see that long black dresser across from the foot of the bed in the picture above? Do you see the white rectangle inset in the dresser top? Turns out that whole top surface lights up. Our first night in Vegas, we made it back to our room around 2:30 A.M. I crammed the pillow chocolate into my mouth and flopped onto the bed. Ritu locked the door and went to turn off the dresser light. The way to do this was not readily apparent, and I'm guessing the large amount of alcohol in his system didn't help. He spent a solid five minutes trying every switch in the room two or three times and patting down the entire dresser trying to unlock it's secret. I helped by lying on the bed laughing hysterically. I thought for sure we were going to have to call housekeeping for help when he finally found a small switch on the edge of the dresser. We never found it on again after that so I figure it's a little joke they like to play on people their first night in town.

Ritu neglected to take a picture of the bathroom which was myfavorite part. Double vanity made of marble, great big bathtub, glassenclosed shower, and a flat screen TV because God Forbid you miss anything whileyou're getting ready. (Did I mention there were three TVs in our suite?) Plus one of those little girly tables to sit atwhile you put on your make-up. I'll admit I'm a sucker for those.

We were on the 28th floor overlooking a section of The Strip.

Here's the same view at night:

More soon. Now I've got to go dose Emma....

Emma Redux

2007-08-22T14:12:00.000-07:00

When we got back from Vegas, I noticed Emma was acting a little funny. It looked like she had a bald patch behind one of her ears and she kept shaking her head. I figured she was itchy from ear mites and took her to the vet for what I assumed would be a quick fix. As soon as the vet mentioned how unusual it would be to see ear mites in a guinea pig, I knew I was doomed. Turns out, of course, that she didn't have ear mites. She had a flare up of this which I'm sure you all remember from April. Last time, the ear infection caused the head tilt which in turn led to corneal abrasions in her right eye. Now her ear is infected again and she has findings in both eyes. Since she has only minimal tilt this time, the eye issue seems to be related to a systemic infection, not abrasions. Last time I spent two weeks administering three medications. This time I have FOUR. Here's a look at my Guinea Pig Pharmacy.

From left to right we have:

1. Antibiotic eye drops, 2-3 drops in both eyes every 12 hours.

2. Anti-inflammatory ear drops, 2-3 drops in the right ear every 12 hours.

3. Acidophilus capsules. These you have to open up and mix with 2 ml of water and syrninge feed her twice a day.

4. Antibiotic, .6 ccs syringe fed twice a day.

As before, the acidophilus has to be given 45 minutes before the antibiotic. That way all the good bacteria in her gut doesn't get destroyed by the antibiotic. Plus, it means the medicine giving process takes 45 minutes twice a day.

What makes this especially fun is the addition of the ear drops. The vet and the tech both warned me how important it was to wear rubber gloves while handling them. Apparently they contain DMSO which is a controversial substance and has only limited approval by the FDA for certain medical conditions. The concern has to do with the fact that it is so quickly absorbed once it gets on your skin. When I asked the tech at the vet's office what would happen if it got on me, I Swear To God she said that my bones would start to dissolve. Ritu did some research and couldn't find that particular side effect, but did say it's used in other countries as a topical analgesic. He finds it somewhat less than concerning. I don't understand why I have to use gloves to touch it, but it's perfectly ok to squirt it directly into my two pound guinea pig's head. (Oh wait, sorry, she's up to two pounds and one ounce now. Such a big girl!) Guess what a guinea pig does when you give her toxic ear drops! Did you guess shake her head spraying them right in your face? Bingo! Anybody know where I can get a welder's mask and some Skele-Grow?

The good news is that other than the original head shaking, she hasn't seemed too sick. The bad news is that her generally healthy state leaves me much less sympathetic to her plight. Also, slightly more resentful of the $122 this visit cost me. Hopefully this round of drugs will solve the problem once and for all and may even cure her of that residual tilt. Lucky for her she's so dang cute.

Pete's Pond

2007-08-22T11:36:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite Internet Time Wasters/Educational Experiences is back up and running! For the past three years, National Geographic has operated a "wildcam" at Pete's Pond in Botswana. The presence of this man-made lake helped revitalize the wild animal population there which had been threatened by poachers who waited at the Limpopo River. Now the area has become a wildlife preserve filled with birds, impala, wildebeests, zebras and more. Just this morning, the kids and I saw an elephant and a cheetah. Have fun!

Pete's Pond Wildcam

Well, Duh

2007-08-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

Juliana won a set of those plastic fangs at a Chuck E. Cheese type place last week. She is quite fond of them and loves to sneak up on people and "scare" them. Her stealth mode isn't too effective as the teeth are so large that you can hear her coming a mile away what with all the slurping and schnuffling noises she makes in an attempt to breathe while wearing them. She bared her fangs at me tonight and I dutifully acted scared.

"Eeeeek! It's a vampire!"

"No, I'm not"

"Then what are you?"

"I'm Juliana wearing rubbery, fake teeth."

Vegas - Part 1

2007-08-16T12:41:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, Ritu had the chance to speak at a conference in Italy in September and we contemplated taking the entire family. Unfortunately, they found enough speakers before he committed and the opportunity was lost. So, when we planned our Las Vegas trip, I thought it would be mighty funny to stay at The Venetian as a lame stand-in for our lost visit to Italy. Most of the hotels on The Strip have some sort of gimmick and The Venetian is no different. Their theme is a trip to Venice complete with it's own Grand Canal.

As a disclaimer, I will say that much of the hotel was gorgeous and the guest rooms were possibly the nicest I've ever stayed in, but there was a Grand Hokeyness factor that I couldn't overlook.

For instance, when you first pull up, there is a huge portico covering 5 lanes of traffic.

The ceiling is covered with numerous paintings. Doesn't this just scream Park Here to you?

Hey look! I think these guys are playing craps.

The lowermost level contains the Grand Canal Shoppes and the aforementioned Grand Canal itself.

The gondola rides featured, of course, singing gondoliers. You just know this guy's mom tells everyone her son has a job in show business.

Here I am enjoying my stroll along the canal.

Here is Ritu. Note what a lovely sunny day it is here in the basement of the Venetian.

We spent hours strolling around Venice, er, the Venetian. Eventually, as the sky turned pink and gold with the sunset, we stumbled upon a large piazza.

It was filled with street performers. Who doesn't love street performers??

Like this guy on stilts! Pretending the jester guy! Is his marionette! Oh, how we laughed at those scamps.

And a strolling accordion player. I simply can't get enough of the dulcet tones of an accordion. Ritu insisted I get my picture taken with him. That husband of mine is forever looking out for my happiness.

And what visit to Venice would be complete without The Guy Who Pretends He's A Statue?

I hate this guy. He wasn't even a good statue. He blinked like a 4-way traffic light and fidgeted more than a three year old in church. I envisioned running full tilt at him and knocking him down. The hostility this man provoked in me was completely unreasonable and could only be quelled by many glasses of red wine. Thank goodness the Venetian has no short supply of that.

Something Funny

2007-08-14T08:34:00.000-07:00

I'm back! And I must say that I had a surprisingly good time! I fully expected to hate Vegas (I always expect the worst, then I can be pleasantly surprised now and then. Don't you wish you got to live with the delight that is me?) but we had a blast. I'll try to upload my pictures today.

In the meantime, I was reading the New Yorker on the plane and this cracked me up.

Hey, Look by Simon Rich July 23, 2007

W hat I imagined the people around me were saying when I was . . .

Eleven:

“Oh, man, I can’t believe that kid Simon missed that ground ball! How pathetic!”

“Wait. He’s staring at his baseball glove with a confused expressionon his face. Maybe there’s something wrong with his glove and that’s why he messed up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what happened.”

————

Twelve:

“Did that kid sitting behind us on the bus just get an erection?”

“I don’t know. For a while, I thought that was the case, but now that he’s holding a book on his lap it’s impossible to tell.”

“I guess we’ll never know what the situation was.”

————

Thirteen:

“Hey, look, that thirteen-year-old is walking around with his mom!”

“Where?”

“There—in front of the supermarket!”

“Oh, my God! That kid is way too old to be hanging out with his mom. Even though I’ve never met him, I can tell he’s a completeloser.”

“Wait a minute. He’s scowling at her and rolling his eyes.”

“Oh, yeah . . . and I think I just heard him curse at her, for no reason.”

“I guess he’s cool after all.”

————

Fourteen:

“Why does that kid have a black ‘X’ on the back of his right hand?”

“I bet it’s because he went to some kind of cool rock concert last night.”

“Wow. He must’ve stayed out pretty late if he didn’t have time to scrub it off.”

“Yeah, and that’s probably why his hair is so messy anddirty—because he cares more about rocking out than conforming tosociety.”

“Even though he isn’t popular in the traditional sense, I respect him from afar.”

————

Fifteen:

“Hey, look, that kid is reading ‘Howl,’ by Allen Ginsberg.”

“Wow. He must be some kind of rebel genius.”

“I’m impressed by the fact that he isn’t trying to call attention to himself.”

“Yeah, he’s just sitting silently in the corner, flipping the pages and nodding, with total comprehension.”

“It’s amazing. He’s so absorbed in his book that he isn’t even aware that a party is going on around him, with dancing and fun.”

“Why aren’t any girls going over and talking to him?”

“I guess they’re probably a little intimidated by his brilliance.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be?”

“I’m sure the girls will talk to him soon.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

————

Sixteen:

“Hey, look, it’s that kid Simon, who wrote that scathing poem for the literary magazine.”

“You mean the one about how people are phonies? Wow—I loved that poem!”

“Me, too. Reading it made me realize for the first time that everyone is a phony, including me.”

“The only person at this school who isn’t a phony is Simon.”

“Yeah. He sees right through us.” ♦

blah blah blah

2007-08-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

All right, all right, I know. I suck. And it's not going to get better any time soon. I've just been drifting, anchor-less, through the end of the summer. I have made some headway on the wallpaper, but it's not done yet either. I should just rename this blog A Half-Assed Passage to India.

Anyhow, tomorrow Ritu and I are heading to Las Vegas for the weekend. He turned 40 in July and this is our celebration trip. If you have any suggestions of things to see and do there, let me know.

My Pint-Sized Ranter

2007-07-25T15:04:00.000-07:00

Stupid goddamned wallpaper. Apparently the method of installation involved driving a steamroller up and down the walls to be sure it stuck there but good. Who the hell puts wallpaper in their house anyhow? I'm trying to decide between continuing to scrape it off a millimeter at a time or just buying the house next door. But I'm ready to begin the battle anew because today I borrowed a steamer from my friend. (Of course, between the hot steam and the use of a stepladder, I fully expect to need skin grafts in areas I can scarcely contemplate.) David took the silver spoon out of his mouth long enough to inform me, "You know, you can hire a pro to do that for you, Mom."

Speaking of that little darling, I think he may be a blogger-in-training. Why, he's already written his very first rant! As I am a mean mom, I have my kids do some math and writing work over the summer. The whole thing takes maybe 30 minutes out of the day and we've probably only done it 7 times since school ended. Now, David is a smart child and he picks things up quickly. What he hates is being corrected. Unfortunately, he must've been sick the day they learned how to estimate in math class because he consistently screws it up. I sat down with him yesterday and gently explained what he was doing wrong. Did I mention how much he loves that? After the Math Drama (now with tears!) he was ready to move on to writing. I don't care what he writes about as long as he types up a well-constructed paragraph with complete sentences and accurate spelling and punctuation. Here's what he wrote:

Numbers are stupid! Thereare many reasons why I hate Numbers. One reason is that is that if you addnumbers you get Math problems, and with math problems you get school, and withschool you get home work, and I hate Home work. Also with problems you get themwrong, and then you get really angry when you find out and have to redo them.With numbers you also count and counting is very boring. There are also gameswith numbers like Yahtzee, and thoseare boring as well. Numbers are thestupidest things on earth and I will always hate them.

Blogger Reflection Award

2007-07-24T15:08:00.000-07:00

I decided this would be a great week to take down the wallpaper here in the office. I guess I figured it would fill the empty place inside me now that the Harry Potter series is over. I do find myself replenished, this time with irritation and misery. I've only taken down wallpaper once before and it was upstairs in the kids' bathroom. What a satisfying, enjoyable experience it was! If you happen to tend towards, say, a wee bit of OCD, removing wallpaper is the job for you. That wallpaper came off easily in nice long strips that I could've worn around my shoulders like a mantle of success. It's the exact kind of job I like: one with a clear beginning and end. I was looking forward to repeating that experience in the office. Only once I got started, I realized there was no clean indication of where to stop. I don't know if the wallpaper was put right on the drywall or what the deal is. I'm afraid I will keep scraping until I hit brick. I made myself stop until I get a better handle on things, but I do admit to twitching a bit each time I look at the wall.

Anyhow, instead, I want to thank Amy for this!

I don't exactly know what it is, but I was tickled to get it. (Gawd, don't I sound like somebody who would happily carry that package onto the airplane for you?) And apparently I'm supposed to pay it forward to five more people, so here goes.

First to The Sapient Sutler which has been one of my favorite bloggers for a long time. Chance took a hiatus, but I'm thrilled to report that he's back and blogging again. Next, is Haley over at The Passion of Forgetting Names which I always find interesting, maybe because her life is at such a different place than mine is. And how about Statia at Not About You. Given my own struggle with infertility, I've been cheering for her through IVF treatments, pregnancy, and the birth of her son. I found Drunken Housewife through my sister who was friends with the blogger when they both lived in San Francisco. Andlast, but not least, I can't express the depth of my love for Jason Mulgrew. I can never decide if I want to go out drinking with him or organize and intervention for him. Probably a little bit of both.

Harry Potter!

2007-07-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

When the Harry Potter release date was announced months and months ago, I immediately called my mom and booked her to keep Juliana for this night so we'd be able to go to the midnight party. When Book 6came out, I'd pre-ordered it from Amazon then spent the entire day inagony until it was finally delivered at around 4 PM. Never again. This time I'm going right to the source. We've never gone to a midnight event before, but this time around David is old enough and, without sounding too gushy, I feel like this is a piece of history.

Since I pre-ordered my two copies at the actual store, I didn't get a confirmation email. I have the little receipt thingy they gave me that day and I'm guarding it more carefully than I did my passport in India. As I didn't get an email, I didn't know until Wednesday that I had to go to Border's this morning to get a wristband which guaranteed my place in line. My friend was willing to have me drop Juliana off at 8:30 AM and David and I got to Border's at 8:45. The line was about a block long. We stood in line outside for nearly 90 minutes. Luckily, it's July and the summers in Oregon are dry and beautiful. Oh wait, that's only when the remnants of a typhoon aren't washing in from the Pacific. <sigh> I stood in line with a bunch of perfect strangers and after listening to them chatter, I was ready to pull my hair out. How can you be literate enough to read a book and still not be able to pronounce any of the names? Jesus. Shut up about Berty Crouch and Seeeemus Finnegan.

Our entire family is Harry Potter crazy right now. David has read all of the books, and in May I suggested he re-read Book 6 to get ready for the new one. He tore through it in a few days, then started at Book 1 and read all the way through the series again. The whole thing took him about 2 1/2 weeks. And this was while school was still in session. Juliana has read Books 1 and 2 and is working her way through 3. David, Ritu, and I have seen all the movies in the theater and Juliana has seen them on DVD. As you can imagine, Harry Potter is the hot topic around our house. Unfortunately, this book is coming out about a week too late. I never thought it would happen, but I've found myself glazing over in a way usually reserved for when David starts long discourses on Star Wars or Pokemon. When I'm trying to hustle us out the door for a 9:00 camp and David stops all forward motion to turn to me and say, "Hey Mom, do you think Tom Riddle...." Well, let's just say a number of Unforgivable Curses crossed my mind.

But tonight is the big night! Sure, it's dark and cold and rainy and I still have a few more hoops to jump through before I get my book. But tonight is the night! (Standing in line to reserve the right to stand in line? WTF was I thinking?)

(It's only 7:45 here. Why the hell did I move to the West Coast? Stupid Pacific Time Zone. )

I'm going to go find some coffee. And I guess I should change out of my pajama pants before I head to Border's. To those of you who celebrate it, Happy Harry Potter Day!

Crater Lake

2007-07-18T14:09:00.000-07:00

Crater Lake was formed 7,700 years ago when Mt. Mazama erupted, then collapsed. There are no inlets to or outlets from the lake and it is fed entirely from rain and snow. It is nearly 2,000 feet deep which makes it the deepest lake in the United States and the 7th deepest lake in the world. Because nothing else washes into the lake from outside sources, the water is a remarkably deep blue color.

At an altitude of over 6,000 feet, there are patches of snow on the ground even in July.

The lake sits inside a caldera, or volcanic basin. The high ridge on the left is a chunk of the volcano's side that didn't collapse.

There are two islands in the lake. The big one is called Wizard Island and you can take a boat ride to it, only it requires a 1.1 mile trek down a steep trail to get to the boat. Not to mention a 1.1 mile trek UP a steep trail to get back. Seeing as Juliana hates physical exertion, we decided to skip the trek and its inevitable accompanying crying jag.

I liked the way the water got all turquoise and shimmery in the shallow areas around the island.

Juliana got tired and hungry and amused herself by making shadows and announcing "Turn me on! I'm a lamp!"

After lunch, we found a waterfall.

As we continued the 33 mile drive around the lake, we got within sight of the second island, which is called The Phantom Pirate Ship.

It looks small, but it's actually 16 stories high.

Did I mention how blue the water is?

Did I mention how cute my family is?

Good Morning

2007-07-17T07:19:00.000-07:00

It's 6:50 A.M. I got up early and had breakfast with Ritu before he had to be at his 7 AM shift. The kids are still asleep, it's grey and rainy for the first time in weeks, the house is dark and quiet and I'm sitting here with my second cup of coffee. I've been contemplating the big tasks I need to get done around this house--weed the entire back yard and take down the wallpaper in the office--but I've decided next week will be the best time for that. (That reminds me, I never took pictures from when we re-did the kids' bathroom last month. I'll add that to my list.)

I still have more pictures from our vacation to post here. The day we left Sunriver, we drove an hour and a half south to visit Crater Lake. We've always wanted to go there, but it's 4 1/2 hours from Portland which makes it too far for a day trip and there isn't enough we'd want to do to merit spending the night. From Sunriver, we were able to leave around 8:30 in the morning, get there around 10 and spend some time driving around and stopping at viewpoints. The views are heart-stoppingly glorious and even the kids were wowed by the whole thing.

At the southern end of the lake is a small cluster of buildings and we decided to have lunch in a little buffet restaurant that adjoined a gift shop. Gift shops are, of course, the main reason my children enjoy sight-seeing. David has a growing collection of monuments (the Space Needle, the Gateway Arch) while Juliana is partial to snow globes and stuffed animals.

Over lunch, the children asked if they could get something at the shop. I hemmed and hawed and said we'd have to see what was there. Juliana suggested maybe a small stuffed animal. I pointed out that she is already in possession of more stuffed animals than anyone needs. She said, "But what if you see a stuffed animal that is so cute it makes you swear?" I just looked at her, confused, and she clarified: "You know, like if you see one and it makes you say 'That is so F cute!' Then could I get it?" Ritu thought this would be a fine time to find out what she thought "F" stood for. He's a helpful kind of guy. I sputtered at him to stop that. It was all I could do not to clamp my hands over my ears and go LA LA LA LA LA. I know she thinks "freaking" is a bad word and I wanted to maintain my belief that that's what she meant.

Sure enough, she ended up with a stuffed moose from the gift shop. Holy shit, was that little motherfucker cute!

Of Pneumatic Tubes And Kaleidoscopes

2007-07-13T11:30:00.000-07:00

While we were in St. Louis, we visited The Magic House. This is an old house that has been converted into a Children's Museum. When my kids were little, we had to drive two hours to Raleigh-Durham to get to anything like this. I remember how excited they would be to climb and explore, play in water, and experience all the sights, sounds, and textures. At ages 7 and 10, my two are on the cusp of being too old for this sort of place and in fact, David did a lot of wandering around before he found something to interest him. (Nobody was too interested in my favorite exhibit which was a working pneumatic tube system that you could actually use to send messages back and forth. Am I the only one who finds pneumatic tubes irresistible? One of my favorite childhood memories is of a clothing store in Oil City that would whiz the bills and receipts back and forth throughout the store via pneumatic tubes.)

Juliana found quite a bit to interest her and she and I wandered amiably through the museum together. As the museum was originally a private residence, exhibits are tucked in corners and behind walls. Part of the fun is seeing what you'll come across with every turn. One turn brought us to a darkened space with an entire wall lit up by a huge video screen. A small camera was mounted above the screen, filming the area in front of it. The video screen was running a display of shimmering colors. Once you stood in front of it, the camera captured you and your silhouette was projected onto the screen. With every movement, the colors trailed behind you. At times there were soft water colors, other times bright psychedelic hues. Sometimes your image was multiplied twice or fourfold. David figured out just where to stand to make his 4 images appear to be holding hands in a ring. The effect was that of a kaleidescope. Both kids spent some time moving around and watching themselves. After a few minutes, David drifted out looking for something new but Juliana stayed, riveted by herself on the screen. She jumped and twirled, she danced the entire routine from her ballet recital, she moved close to the screen then back again, she moved her arms slowly and gracefully, then tore around full-speed. Other people wandered over to the exhibit, but her bliss was so palpable that instead of joining her, they stood on the edge and watched her lost in dance. I leaned against the wall as she filled the screen with color and motion. It suddenly occurred to me that this, this, is how she sees life every day. To her, the world is one big rainbow and everything she does leaves a trail of shimmering colors in her wake. It's no wonder she was so captivated; here was her soul being projected back at her. I stood there with tears in my eyes told myself we would stay there as long as she wanted, even if it meant until the museum closed.

She spent 25 minutes there completely hypnotized, then suddenly turned to me, the spell broken, and said she was done. She walked out of the darkness somewhat dazed, but completely happy.

Are You Sick Of Me Yet?

2007-07-10T15:10:00.000-07:00

I can't help it. It's supposed to hit 102 here today. I've got the house closed up like a cave, I mopped all my wood floors, and the kids are watching a movie. I've finally got some time to get through these pictures.

Here's one of Juliana that I just love. This was taken at one of David's soccer tournaments. Between games, we had a picnic lunch and she was playing with the little brother of one of David's teammates. Couldn't you just die for his hair? Juliana never met a camera she didn't like, as illustrated here. It's kind of hard to tell, but when Nick offered to take her picture, she sort of leaned forward, put her hands on her knees and smiled up at him.

Why I Love Robyne Best

2007-07-10T15:02:00.000-07:00

She photoshopped the hair off my forehead! Hee!!

Pictures II - St. Louis

2007-07-10T14:58:00.000-07:00

In St. Louis, we went to visit the Gateway Arch. I figured we'd go, take a look at it, and leave but we ended up spending most of the day there. Here are the kids lounging against the outside of the arch itself. I think it was 95 degrees and 95% humidity that day.

David entering the little capsule tram that took you inside and up to the top of the arch.

Looking out the little windows at the top of the arch.

View of St. Louis from the top.

David at the highest point. We've got haircuts scheduled for this week. Shut up.

We also visited a children's museum. David got to do the Van de Graaf generator. Heh, this one I'll save for his prom date.

Pictures I

2007-07-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

It's Picture Time! First, we have a few of Juliana dressed as a baby swan from her ballet recital. This one was taken right after she finished. Think she was having fun?

Here we are together! Wish I knew how to photoshop that stray hair off my forehead. Could she look any less like me? <sigh>

Here's a pretty good look at her costume. (Personally, I thought the swan feather headpieces made them all look like little old ladies, but they were beyond adorable, nonetheless.)

And now a few of the camera-shy David. This one is from his birthday party. Here he is opening his gift from us: an Ipod Shuffle.

Here's my little soccer stud on the field:

Here he is on his actual birthday, which we celebrated in St. Louis at Dave and Buster's.

Why We Like It In Sunriver

2007-07-04T15:14:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of notable wildlife sightings in our first three days here:

* numerous ground squirrels and chipmunks
* soaring red-tailed hawks
* many geese families, including one with four tiny little fuzzy goslings
* a weird looking salamander/lizardy thing that had most likely lost its tail. It looked kind of like a shell-less turtle.
*11 deer sightings, which includes a doe with two wobbly fawn that Juliana and I saw this morning
* an osprey fishing in the Deschutes River (seen by David)
* a cottontail rabbit chewing long pieces of grass that made it look just like it was slurping spaghetti noodles
* baby barn swallows peeking out of a nesting box
* a nifty frog with orange spots swimming in a creek
* A heron fishing in the river seen by Juliana while riding a horse
* a pregnant barn cat with a mouse in its mouth

Happy 4th!

2007-07-04T14:34:00.000-07:00

We're here in Sunriver for a week of vacation. We've never been here over 4th of July before, so it's a little more crowded than usual, but still relaxing and fun. We have an option to take a shuttle bus into the nearest city to see fireworks tonight, but as my kids continue to be terrified of them, we're planning to stay here at the vacation house instead. I have a brand new bottle of Vanilla Stoli and some cranberry juice, so I'll be celebrating just as our founding fathers intended.

Before we had kids, our travel mainly consisted of going to Ritu's medical conferences. These trips were in sunny locations, often at fancy resorts. The room and Ritu's airfare were generally covered, so it was a fairly affordable way to travel. Ritu would go to meetings and I would wander around the resort, or spend hours luxuriating in the room or by the pool with a book. We'd eat out for every meal, expanding our culinary horizons along with our waistbands.

We tried this a few times with kids and it was always a disaster. The last thing I want is for all of us to be crammed in one hotel room and expecting small children to behave in restaurants three times a day is an exercise in futility. Over the years, I have become a huge fan of the vacation rental. The kids have their own room and when they go to bed, we don't have to sit on the floor trying to read by a sliver of bathroom light. We can come with a load of groceries and people can eat when they want without it being a group undertaking. And I have a confession. I love keeping a vacation house clean. It never feels like work; it's exactly like having a grown up sized play house. To take it further, my favorite kind of vacation is one with a washer and dryer. Nothing makes me happier than to do laundry and take home suitcases full of clean clothes. I'll even wash the rental towels throughout the week.

You know, when I write it all out like that, it really sounds pathetic. And just a tiny touch OCD. Ah, well, no time for introspection. I just noticed a toothpaste splatter on the mirror and while I don't have any Windex at my disposal, I saw a bottle of white vinegar in the pantry which should work just fine....

I Stole All These Pictures Right From Jen's Blog.

2007-06-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

Based on the current level of my PMS (approximately 2 feet above my head), I am pretty sure I am not pregnant. Sorry to disappoint you all, but let's face it, this is better than having to fling myself off an I-5 overpass.

As Sarah keeps helpfully reminding me (And is it a rule that you have to be named Sarah or Jen to comment on this blog?), I've yet to share the Adventure In Grace from my girls' weekend. Here goes.

My fabulous friend Julie--if you read my birthday blog, she's the one who wrote the charming story of getting the hotel DNA blanket caught in her braces. That story stays 100% funny no matter how many times you hear it--has a gorgeous house that she kindly opens up to us when we're able to coordinate these rare chances to get together. The last time was three years ago and in the span of a few short days I managed to sit on her sunglasses and break them as well as take out one of her landscaping lights with my van. I'm nothing if not consistent.

This trip, though, I was as careful as I could be. I had a close brush the last day coming down the steps with my arms full of luggage, but all the decorative items stayed intact and I (prematurely) congratulated myself for making it through the weekend disaster-free.

With literally 10 minutes left, we gathered in Julie's kitchen to give her a surprise hostess gift. It was a set of glass coasters that she had admired while we were at the Tacoma Museum of Glass (which is an amazing place) and that we'd secretly bought for her. As you can see from the pictures, she was truly touched and overwhelmed.

It was precisely at this sweet moment, that I leaned against the wall in the kitchen. Unfortunately, I leaned right against a large framed photograph of Julie's oldest son, who is away at college. The picture frame was adorned with a couple of necklaces. To make it even better, I think they were actually crucifixes. My leaning against the picture caused it to crash to the floor. On the way down, it gouged a piece of wood from the baseboard. Luckily, Jen had her omnipresent camera and immortalized my mad scramble to pick things up.

I was so close. SO CLOSE. In ten minutes we would've all parted ways without incident.

But these women are my friends and if there's one thing I am certain of, it's that they will never let me live this down. But that's ok. Because to my credit, I was able to make Joy laugh so hard that she had to run across a ferry terminal and spit coffee into a trash can. Where were the damn cameras then?

Here's a group photo (L to R: Joy, Jen, Julie, Amy, and Me)

Did I Mention?

2007-06-26T09:05:00.000-07:00

So, did I mention that while standing in a sandwich shop on Friday, I convinced myself that I was pregnant?

There are many, many solid reasons why I am not pregnant. For one, my husband had a vasectomy. Secondly, I am clinically infertile and only get pregnant when I am completely caffeine-free and taking Clomid. Third, I am never completely caffeine-free. I believe that my great love of coffee may have something to do with its contraceptive properties.

And yet. Last Monday night I had a dream that I was very newly pregnant. I was so excited and couldn't wait to tell everyone. I'm blaming the dream on having just spent those days with my baby nephew. But I take dreams fairly seriously and both times I was pregnant, I correctly dreamed the sex of the baby.

Secondly, I have been bone-dead tired for a week. I did have one of the busiest weeks of my life last week which probably has something to do with it. We were so busy that for two days I couldn't even get to the store to get milk. And my house was so neglected that while watching Stomp perform with pushbrooms on Saturday night, I was completely distracted by thoughts of how filthy my wood floors were. (For the record, Stomp is one of those things that having now seen it, I'll never feel the urge to see again.)

Thirdly, I've been craving roast beef. David recently learned to like deli roast beef and since he only introduces about two new foods into his repertoire per year, I made sure to go buy some. I ate roast beef sandwiches two days in a row for lunch, then when I was at the sandwich shop and they couldn't make me the pizza sub I wanted (Their toaster had broken the day before. Losers.), I scanned the board and immediately chose roast beef. I never choose roast beef. I always get turkey. That's when it hit me. The last time I craved roast beef was the week before I found out I was pregnant with Juliana. We'd had relatives come in from out of town for David's second birthday and we'd stocked up on sandwich fixings. One morning I found myself eating the roast beef straight out of the bag for breakfast. Four days later I was holding a positive pregnancy test.

If it turns out I am pregnant, I will happily choose a random commenter to name andraise the baby! Feel free to email me with updates on the baby's life and I'll post them here!

Happy Summer!

2007-06-23T07:23:00.000-07:00

For those of you who care, I am still here! I keep thinking I'll wait until I have some real time to write which means that maybe come October I'll get something posted. We made it through David's birthday party and the ballet recital unscathed, then celebrated the end of school by driving straight to the airport to visit my new nephew in St. Louis for the weekend. I have pictures of all these things on our new camera, but my life has been such that I can't seem to find the time to locate the cord and thus get them from the camera to the computer. And David faithfully wrote all his thank you notes nearly a week ago and I've yet to get them into envelopes, addressed and mailed.

I spent the first half of the week playing catch-up around the house from being out of town, and the second half working on a garage sale held by our Relay For Life team. Unfortunately, I'm convinced all the work I'm doing in the name of cancer research is causing me to sprout a tumor.

The good news is that my jaw is pretty much healed and it only took five nights of valium. Which means I still have 15 tablets left for anyone who'd like to make me an offer.

Next week should be calmer, but then we leave town for a week over the holiday. Ritu suggested not bringing the computer, but once I calmly explained how I was looking forward to some leisurely writing time and let him out of that headlock, he seemed to understand.

Despite my laundry list of complaints, I am so happy not to be selling a house this summer that it all just bounces right off me. I hate to post and run, but the garage sale needs my expert help in dragging tables and hauling boxes.

My New Friend Val

2007-06-08T21:40:00.000-07:00

My computer is finally back! I think it needed a new power source and to have thick layers of dust blown off its various fans. Or something. Whatever. It works now and that's all that matters to me. I have to admit, though, that I was exponentially more productive with it gone. In fact, I got the kids'/guest bathroom totally redone in this time. And I'd gladly post pictures, but now my camera has stopped working. (Maybe there's a tiny little dusty fan in there?)

The other thing I accomplished in this time was developing the mother of all muscle spasms in my jaw. It's no secret that I clench my teeth when I sleep, but generally it goes in cycles where I have a little discomfort every few months for a short period of time. But I am all about personal bests, so this time I took it to a whole new level. As the problem increased, I would lie awake at night consciously trying to unclench my jaw. This led to insomnia which led to more jaw tightening. When I would fall asleep, I'd practically need a crowbar to open my mouth in the morning. During my trip to Pittsburgh, it escalated to the point where I was in pain all the time. It wasn't the worst pain I've ever had, but its constant presence was wearing me down physically and emotionally. On Tuesday I got to the dentist who confirmed that it was a muscle issue, as opposed to a tooth problem. He gave me this awesome jaw massage right there in the chair and sent me home with instructions to alternate ice and heat on it and to continue taking pain relievers. Oh, and a prescription for Valium to take at night. He said it was to serve as a muscle relaxer, but when I filled the prescription, the pharmacist looked me over and said, "Ok, so it looks like you'll be taking this to help you get some sleep....or to help with anxiety....?" I pried my jaw open long enough to stammer that it was to deal with a muscle spasm. She nodded, but I could tell she thought I was crazy.

So, now I get to take a Valium every night before bed. I'd never taken it before, so I wasn't sure how it would affect me. The first night I noticed that my limbs felt awfully heavy. I went to scratch my chin and it took like, three solid minutes for my hand to get to my face. Ritu asked how I felt and the only word that seemed to fit was "agreeable". Talk about a foreign feeling. On the second night, I sent the following email to my sister: I took my valium and now my legs work funny.

The good news is that the spasm is slowly but surely easing up. The bad news is that eventually I'll run out of Valium. I go back to the dentist in two weeks at which point I'll probably be fitted with a night guard. Anybody have experience with those? Can you tell me how they rank compared to say, nightly Valium?

And I promise I didn't forget to write about my adventures in clumsiness during my weekend (thank you for the kick-start, Sarah!) but did I mention that my in-laws get here tomorrow? And that David's birthday party is tomorrow? And Juliana's ballet recital is Monday? And that Thursday is both the last day of school and the day we leave town for a weekend in St. Louis to meet our new nephew? Oh wait...do you hear that? It's the sweet sweet sound of my Valium calling.

Down and Out

2007-05-31T11:08:00.000-07:00

My computer has been down all week and now I'm heading to Pittsburgh for the weekend for my aunt and uncle' 50th anniversary party. I hope to be up and running again in the near future.....

Proud Moments

2007-05-24T12:50:00.000-07:00

Lest you think I'm getting more co-ordinated over time, here are some of my recent proud moments:

1. The other day I was walking to the table with my breakfast plate in my hand. I stopped to put something in the trash and my entire breakfast slid off my plate and onto the floor. Two slices of toast, two slices of cheese, and a Morningstar veggie sausage patty. It was the Grand Slam of breakfast droppage.

2. At the grocery store, I managed to injure myself with an artichoke. I had two in a plastic bag (Juliana loves them, the little weirdo) in my cart and when I went to pick up something next to them, one of the pointy ends jabbed right into my finger, drawing blood. I actually had to squeeze a piece of it out of my skin like you do with a bee sting. A week later I noticed my finger had a sore spot and sure enough there was a tiny bit of artichoke quill? spine? still left under the skin. I was able to extract it preventing me from becoming the first person in history to lose a digit via artichoke.

On Sunday I was eating a delightful spinach salad with a lemony dressing. I took a bite of spinach and the stem shot upwards and jabbed me in the eye. Lemony dressing in your eye feels just about like you'd expect.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a synagogue meeting when my cell phone rang. I scooped up my purse and attempted to make it unobtrusively out of the room. Instead, my purse spilled all over the floor as my phone continued to ring. (Yes, I know there's a way to silence it when it starts ringing, but I can never remember which button that is.) I'm sure the other synagogue members were most amused by me hissing "JESUS!" as I scrambled to gather up my belongings.

And the piece de resistance occurred on my trip up to Seattle. Good Lord, this one actually comes with photographic evidence. But that one will have to wait for another day...

Here I Am

2007-05-22T18:31:00.000-07:00

I was gone for a long weekend up near Seattle with four of my girlfriends. They come from all over the country and we all met on an AOL pregnancy board when we were pregnant with our now-seven-year olds. I can't even put into words how much fun I had, how hard I laughed and how much better I feel from having that chance to re-charge my batteries. I swear, at times I felt like a 13 year old girl at a slumber party. I promise to post some picture from the trip as soon as I get the chance.

In the meantime, I had a complaint (I'm looking at you, Jen) that there hadn't been any pics of the kids lately, so here you go. Juliana had an open house at school today where the parents were invited to come view the first graders' animal research reports. Here are a few pics from that.

Here she is standing next to her report and the hands-on model of her animal.

Her report was on rabbits. Here's a close-up of the sock puppet rabbit in its habitat.

Isn't she a doll?? Her outfit went from Springy Cute to Ragamuffin once she added the hairscarf and ratty Converse All-Stars.

I have some pictures of David from his class production of Charlotte's Web, but he's standing right here and is threatening me with death if I post them. Sweet child, that one...